


Death Angel

by unifairie



Category: Original Fiction - Fandom, Original Work/ Walking Dead Connection, Original characters - Fandom, Suspense/Thriller - Fandom
Genre: Crosses over into supernatural world in end, Disfigurement, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Imprisonment, Intelligence training, M/M, Martial Arts Training, Military Training, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-consent confinement, Object Insertion, Object Penetration, Past Child Abuse, Rough Sex, Some characters will cross over into Walking Dead story 'Heartbeats', Starvation, Torture, Vampire Turning, Vampires, past child sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2018-10-27 07:19:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10804443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unifairie/pseuds/unifairie
Summary: Damon, is a killer for hire, emotionless and cold, feelings not a necessity in his line of work, nor his life in general. It's all about the thrill, on the job or in his pursuit of sexual fulfillment. Love is a wasted emotion, but lust is not. Whether on the hunt for his next kill or his next fuck, he pursues both equally. The quest for the thrill, something to make the blood rush through the veins, until it doesn't. Then, push rewind and start over.





	1. Hello

His frigid blue eyes seemed lit from within, by the rarely visible amber flecks, as he concentrated on the door lock which was a little more complicated than usual and taking up more of his precious time than he would normally have spared, with the only real source of light to illuminate the inky blackness being the moon. Few were aware of those rare amber flecks, since their only appearances were at moments of an adrenaline-high rush, as he had now, when he was fulfilling an assignment, or at the height of a passionate encounter of the sexual kind. Most others avoided those beautiful eyes of death, for fear they'd freeze to death in their icy glare. 

Finally...the soft click let him know it was his. Opening the door immediately was only an exercise in stupidity; never part of his mentality. He had surveyed the property beforehand and was well-aware of the security system in place, and how to get past it. The two security gaurds, hidden in the bushes had been unfortunate casualties, the only ones he couldn't avoid, dispatched rather easily, necks snapped in under a second, without their ever being aware he was near. The illuminating lights had gone out seconds later due to two quick pings from mini stars, through the glass covers and bulbs in one flick of the wrist. Thus, his work by moonlight, which was not a hindrance for him. 

He slid the laser light from his pocket, running it along the seam of the door, finding and memorizing the contact points, and with the small demagnetising tool he'd invented himself, the door alarm was deactivated. Peice of cake, he thought, opening the door and sliding inside, his lean wiry body flat in the doorframe, as he closed the door, softly, body easing slowly to the floor. His frame held no unnecessary fat, a perfect machine for stealth and death. In a quick movement, he was flat on the floor, shooting across it like a snake, reaching the next wall almost instantly. He was fast, feeling no need to waste time. He had a job to do. He rose from the floor at the wall, knowing this type of security system well, though the owner thought it highly sophisticated, a system of invisible lasers that were crosshatching only this room. That was idiotic on their part, thinking it an inpenetrable safegaurd, in combination with the door and the highly trained gaurds. Damon had gained entrance in a matter of minutes; but, of course, he was a special case. And, since he knew that was the end of the security, except for the cameras, something else he scoffed at, he quickly slithered up the stairs. 

His target should be in the Master, alone if he was lucky; if not, oh well, another casualty. Such was the job. He couldn't afford to get sentimental about it. Everybody had to die sometime, and death was his business. He walked past the first rooms, sure of his destination, stopping in front of a door, listening for a moment. A smile. Asleep and alone. One, two, three, open door. And he stepped inside. 

The large man lay on the bed, in only his boxer shorts, feeling safe and secure. To Damon, he was disgusting, pale bloated body of a beached whale, lots of wirey gray-peppered hair on the body and head, rubbery blubber lips that should have been surgically sewn shut long ago to stop his gluttony; his appearance matching his deeds, This peice of worthless filth, who dealt in the sale of children into sexual slavery, for other deviant peices of trash out there, with more money than brains, to use up and discard the innocents sold into their cruel care, so they could just buy another one. He would have taken this one out for free, but fortunately he got paid well to get rid of the human waste. 

This pig called for a little special treatment. He only wished he had the time for a slower death, but would just make sure it was painful and gory, and the bastard was aware of his imminent demise, before he went. He brought out the razor sharp blade, its metal a deadly glint in the dim light provided by the night orb. It only moved three times, in deadly and rapid succession, to bathe the scene in blood red, that looked black in the moon' rays, filtering through the window. The man awoke for only the few seconds it took to realize his death, seeing it in the moment, reflected on the blade, before it disappeared. The blade slashed across the throat first, sending up an arterial spray, that fountained down over the startled face, fat hands grabbing at the mortal wound, in an attempt to save himself; not even a possibility. The blade's next target was the fat gut it slid into, and ripped across. Things not meant to be seen, made a sudden appearance, along with more blood. Then, the blade took it's final move, plunging into one dark sadistic eye, full of panic, now, and down into the brain. Instant death, far too good for this obnoxious poisoned slab of meat. 

Damon was glad his outfit was black, his chosen color for work, black turtleneck and black jeans. Black hid stains well. He wiped the bloody blade off on the bed linen and slid it back into it's sheath. He'd clean it articulately later. He gave a cold smile, exiting the room, not bothering with the alarm system on the way out, letting it blare, confident he would not be caught, not even the image of his face on the security cameras. He knew his job and performed it perfectly. Another piece of shit had been sent to hell, courtesy of the Damon express, or the 'Death Angel' express; referring to his nickname, given to him by the shadowy government people he worked for, but not how he referred to himself.  
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Damon finished his shower, scrubbed his body with the towel, then fastened it around his waist. He decided to forego a shave, the stubble actually looked good on him, he knew, not that he didn't look good smooth, as well. Damon wasn't a shy man, though he was quiet, not a man to waste words. And, words weren't really necessay, when a man looked the way Damon did. He wasn't the obvious tall muscled hunk, but he was definitely a man, nothing feminine about his looks, hard and chiseled everywhere, including his face, but super streamlined, lean muscles and surprisingly soft skin over them. His lovers often commented on that, after a rough bout of sex; of how such a wild animal could have such softness. 

Damon would often gave a hint of a smile at such words, a smile that ended the conversation, so frighteningly cold. Lovers often felt fear from that smile, unsure of their safety in the presence of this wolf, whose vibrant blues held an inate intelligence, reading them far better than they wanted to be read, seeing their souls, uncovering deep hidden secrets. Yes, Damon frightened his lovers, but they would have been back for more, if it had been allowed. Damon didn't allow. Sex, for him was a war; rough and painful, filled with bruises and blood, but deeply satisfying. So, it was no wonder, his lovers wanted more. But, Damon never took a lover to his bed more than once. Relationships weren't for him. It was only about the sex, and the release he needed, and the manner in which he needed it. 

Damon got dressed for the hunt, the traditional black leather of the pants and jacket, with the chest bare beneath, the beautifully sculpted and hollowed body underneath the confining shell, ready to entice and lure, streaks of gold lightly dusted the soft brunette curls, brushing elegant shoulders slightly. His full lower lip had pressed into the thinner upper, in a moment of contemplation. Those lips caused many a fantasy, and Damon was capable of making them all come true. Any lover would attest, that his kisses were heavenly, those lips put to exquisite use. Damon had perfected the art of the kiss, but his lips and mouth were made for driving his lovers mad with desire, as those pearly whites, added to the painful ecstacy. Multiple orgasms were a requirement, for the night of hot sinful pleasure and memories to last lifetimes, making groins and crotches damp with the thought of him months later, and the yearning for his touches, an obsession which could only be had in the memory. 

Damon gave himself a last glance in the mirror, fully satisfied. He knew how good he looked, and there was not a doubt he would not be alone tonight. But, he just had to find what he was looking for, the right lover, built to take what he dealt out, someone needing the violence of the erotic dance as he did, someone hard and hungry as him, with endurance, gender unimportant, only the hunger that matched his. The soft click of the lock, and the slightly louder ones, of his boot heels on the shiny hardwood floor, as the door closed, before he slipped out into the night, ready to burn off some adrenaline, built up from his previous night's kill, before he allowed himself to be consumed by the passionate flames of the erotic and exotic dance.  
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Damon woke slowly, sleep having been a minimum, after his wild night. The phone was buzzing, but he let it, knowing it was Davis, his bossman so to speak, the shadowy man in charge of his 'assignments'. The man could wait a minute. He took the time to wake up fully first. He had only gotten back to his own lair a couple of hours before the phone rang, having taken his fling for the night to a different room at a seedy motel for their romp. He never took one where he would actually lay his head. Pleasure never mixed with reality, or the job. This hotel suite was temporary too, and he would be moving on in a few days, never one to overstay his welcome, nor one to give anyone a possible chance to track him down. 

There was a lot of super intelligence in his working arena, and friends could be the enemy at any time. His bank accounts were also works of art. The instant his payments were deposited into his account, they would disappear, cash later being deposited into a secret account in another bank far away under another name. Even the secret agency he worked for would never find his funds. He knew they had tried, and it amused him. His friend, one of the few, as his trust issues prevented friendships. But, he and Blu went way back, to a life in a childhood neither wanted to remember, but where a soul bond had been formed. They were willing to give over their lives for each other. 

Blu's name was a joke to anyone that knew him, his shocking red mohawk the first thing you noticed about the guy, the second being the biggest whitest smile of teeth known to man, only slightly whiter than his skin. The man didn't tan, sun turned him into a cherry, cooked well past done. Fortunately, he spent most of his time in the night, because he always wore white tank tops, even in the dead of winter, never a coat or jacket. He practically disappeared in the damn things, along with camo cargo pants, with pockets filled with gadgets he could use for anything, and one joint attached to the blunt clip fastened to the small nipple ring on his chest, under the tank, and within easy reach. 

Blu was flamboyant in dress and actions, tall and lanky, with wild tie-die sneakers that he always wore, self decorated and enhanced. And, a super intelligent brain he didn't let many know he had. From that description, you would have pictured a geeky unattractive man, and would have been wrong. Blu had an amazingly attractive face, and the elegant grace of a gazelle. Blu had introduced Damon to sex at the tender age of twelve years, via his first blow job. And, the boy was an expert, blowing a naive kid's brains out. It never happened again, but it was a present from the redhead, an introduction to manhood, he said, to his heart, how he referred to Damon. It was love in it's purest form, the best he could offer. Damon accepted it as the gift it was, blocking out how the boy had gotten such experience at such a tender age, and the fact his friend had been turned out on the streets at the age of six by his uncle who had taught him the fine arts of sex with practice on himself, so his sweet lips could perform such arts that would pay the bills for the tiny one room dump they lived in. Blu told him it was the only time he had ever looked forward to sucking a cock. And, after his nightmare childhood, Blu had turned out strait, loving the ladies more than he loved ice cream, and boy did Blu love ice cream. He could have eaten it for every meal and never gotten tired of it. It was just one of the quirks in his friend that Damon found amusing. 

Blu didn't have much of an education, all self taught intelligence soaked up by that sponge of a brain. He earned a living building computer programs, making a fortune, and never even used a forth of that brainpower to do it. He had set up Damon's checking account system, as well as his secret identities, and other things that kept Damon's life running smoothly. And, the government had never found this diamond, to get it's grubby hands on. Damon was the only one who knew everything about Blu, other than the persona he put out to the rest of the world. Damon had been the assassin to end Blu's uncles miserable life, his present to the man who'd introduced him to manhood, the death being a long overdue repayment of that gift.  
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Blaze gave a secret smile, at her bosse's curses. She knew he had just ended a conversation with one of his agents, and it didn't take three guesses to know which one it was. Only Damon could piss him off like that. But, Davis used him so often because he was also the best. Blaze was only one of Davis' researchers, he had several, and they all researched in specific areas of expertise. Blaze worked in the tech arena, finding the criminals to be taken out of the world of computers and the technologies of secret intelligence, in other words their competition. It was a little shady area, but it didn't concern her. She was in it for the paycheck, which was mighty healthy to say the least. 

The tiny brunette was a beautiful hummingbird of activity, as her fingers flitted over the computer keys, in search of nuggets of information she needed to produce her latest admission for Davis, her thick hair pulled into a high ponytail, fluttering down her back as her head and eyes moved with the computer screen's words as well as bobbing to the beat of the song in the earbuds connected to an ipod, where the rich tones of a Cyndi Lauper classic, 'She Bop', threatened to destroy her eardrums. She could easily multi-task, lifting up a McDonald's giant size soda for a quick slurp, as her fingers continued to fly on the keyboard, and the ponytail fluttered. And her little toes tapped a rhythem in spike-healed short boots under her desk. She wanted to finish the report before she left. It was Friday, and she didn't want this shit messing with her weekend. A final swipe over the keyboards, and her finger hit print, with a grin. She plucked the smart looking reading glasses off her pert little nose, shoved them into the eyeglass sleeve and dropped them into her suitcase of a bag beside her chair, listening to the printer run off the sheets of her report for her admission to Davis. The earbuds and ipod dropped into the bag too. The office cleaners could take care of the soda container. She pulled a stick of juicyfruit from the pack of gum on her desk and popped it in her mouth, letting it's sweetness fill her mouth as she chewed, reaching for one last swig of soda before she would abandon it. Fifteen minutes later, the tiny brunette was stepping through the revolving doors out onto the street, her admission folder on Davis' desk. She walked the six blocks to the underground parking lot, showed her id to the valet, and soon had her sky blue mercedes delivered to her side. The valet smiled as he handed her the keys, trying to flirt. She ignored his effort, not worth her time and not in her class, even if he was cute.  
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Davis had watched the swing of the tiny brunette's hips as she left his office, wishing he could say he was intimately familiar with them, but he was well aware she would never give him that chance. It was hard to beleive such a brain was packaged so beautifully. But, the females he was surrounded by were all attractive and intelligent, as were all of his agents, and he felt a rise in his blood pressure thinking about his latest hottest conversation with his number one, Damon, the deadliest assassin in the bunch. He had an assignment for the 'Death Angel', but it required more than one agent, needing a three-person team to complete. And, his boy had said no. Damon only worked with one of the other agent's, Roze; said she was the only one he'd trust his back with. And, he never did a job that required more than two, too many chances to fuck up, he said, and Damon didn't tolerate fuck-ups. And, when he had reminded Damon that he worked for him, and that he was the boss, Damon had come back with a quick retort to remind him that he didn't have to work for him, which was a truth Davis couldn't deny. All of Davis' agents were temperamental little porcupines, but Damon was the only one that gave him ulcers. So, he chewed on antacid tablets as he called in Lunar to work with the twins, Simon and Simone on this assignment. He knew Roze wouldn't do it. She worked solitary or occasionally with Damon, being almost as paranoid as his top agent. So much for having a good day, he thought.  



	2. One, Two, Are You Blu?

"Can I ask you a question?" Roze glanced at Damon. They were sitting at a bar, having a couple drinks, though they were on high alert, waiting for their targets. But, they were actually drinking. Roze wasn't one to turn down a drink, even when on the job. She would have preferred a beer though, her drink of choice. But, she had to be more sophisticated tonight, playing a part in a drama that was life and death; so she was sipping at her 'Manhatten' in a ladylike manner. Damon, on the other hand, looked quite at home with his Bourbon, and quite sophisticated as well. Roze was probably the only person in his vacinity that knew just how high his adrenaline was right now, as hers was right up there with his. 

"Ask away. No gaurantee on an answer." Damon allowed. 

"Nothing personal, or at least not really." Roze was a bit vague. "Just wanted to ask about Blu, a friend of yours, he said. As I really don't know much about your personal life, needed to know if he was just shittin' me. He asked me out, a date... Curious..." 

"Want me to tell you if you should say yes?" 

"No. I'm capable of making that decision myself, thank you. Just tell me if you fucked him. I don't want your leftovers." Roze quipped. "And, also tell me how he knows me." Roze was suddenly serious. She didn't want people to know who she was, keeping her private life separate from her job. And, this was cutting too close. 

"If I had fucked him, he wouldn't have known me." Damon smiled. "He just saw us together once. He doesn't know you, just thought you looked good. No, we haven't talked. I just know him, and he knows me. He has good taste." Damon threw out the compliment, casually, surprising Roze. 

"If I'm all that much, why haven't you seen me?" Roze was curious. 

"I've seen you, just not my type. Didn't want to hurt you." 

"You think you could?" Roze sniffed, a little offended. 

"I meant sex, Roze. I'm not easy, and I don't do friends. Too awkward for the after. And, I want to keep you, not discard you...Our targets..." Damon ended the conversation, concentration on the men that had just entered the bar. Anyone looking at the group would have backed off, knowing these men were dangerous. But, nobody would have suspected the elegant couple at the bar was far more dangerous than the whole group combined. They would never know either. The pair kept their identities hidden from all but their targets; and the dead told no tales. 

Damon could have taken them all out easily, but this was a case of needing to make a statement, so he needed a second for an assist. It wouldn't be easy to make this statement and maintain their covers, but that only upped the thrill for Damon. For Roze, it was just another kill, no matter the difficulty. 

A half hour later, they had exited the bar, meandering out like a couple heading home for the night, and nobody could see the blood on Roze's spiked heel, the same spike she'd driven through the skull of one of those jackasses. It had taken a bit of time to lure all the men to the bathroom, and she had lost patience with the last one, that wanted to feel her up outside the door. So, she'd slipped out of a shoe, slamming it home into his brain as she shoved him through the door. Prick was just plain rude, not gentleman enough to wait to grab her ass until he was inside the toilet. She had helped Damon drag him into the forth stall, dragging his pants down and positioning him on the toilet, just like the other three had been positioned earlier. 

The statement had been made. The fools had been caught with their pants down, so to say. Their buddies might think about this shit in the future. Damon and Roze had just taken out four members of the Della Base drug empire, four of their enforcers. That should set them back a few months, or longer. This was just the beginning. There were quite a few more to take out before Damon delivered the coup de grace, taking the head of the empire, quite literally, something he was really looking forward to.  
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It had been three weeks since the start of the takedown of the Della Base Empire, and tonight was the night that Damon was to finish it. Della Base's head had upped the security for himself, feeling the need with so many of his underlings being taken out. The man feared for his life, with good reason. He'd practically gone into hiding, after sending his family away to safety, also a smart move on his part, family members often became casualties. But, the man thinking he could hide from his killer, that was stupid... when the killer was the Death Angel. Damon had never failed a kill yet. He was just too good. And, the fact this one was so much more challanging had upped the thrill for him. He might have to go out for a fuck when he finished, to burn himself down, his adrenalin was on overload. 

The security gaurds weren't much of a problem, really. There were a lot of them, but they were new to the job, and wouldn't be as efficient. The number was an added risk, but their freshness was a break. Damon almost felt sorry he had to take them out, since they couldn't put up any more of a challange than just their sheer numbers. Taking them out wouldn't be as quiet as he liked either. Thank god his target had helped him out in that department by finding an isolated hideout. The asshole would be forewarned he was there, couldn't really help that, but it wouldn't be enough to save his worthless life. Damon would get him. He felt a grin at the thought of them coming face to face. He really did like to see the fear in their eyes when they knew they were going to die and they could do nothing about it. These arrogant pricks thought they were invincible, until death actually knocked on their doors, and they realized they were a human animal after all. 

Damon slid through the darkness like a shadow. He had left the car a couple miles away, traveling on foot through the woods, until he was close to his destination. He skirted around the property, finding all it's faults, it's weaknesses, and there were many for someone of his caliber. He felt fortunate that gaurd dogs had not been employed. That would have really been tricky, but not impossibe. It had actually surprised him that gaurd dogs weren't part of the mix. The gaurds wre spaced out, instead of clumped together, so he'd have to take them out one at a time and still work quickly, before they got the idea of what was going on. He was sure that by the time he finally got to the target, he'd be aware of him. Hopefully, he'd grow a pair of balls and put up a fight, and not try to run away. Damon needed a bit of a fight, just to take the edge off, or he'd have a hard time finding someone he could fuck without doing serious injury to the person, and that would put a real damper on things. He knew he wouldn't kill any sex partner he chose, but he didn't want to damage them either. The sex was supposed to be hard and hot, but a definitely pleasureable pain. The after was supposed to be a nice ache, to leave them wanting a repeat performance, not needing a trip to an emergency room. No, he needed to burn off some of that before he sought out a lover for the night. 

Damon circled the exterior of the house, taking out each gaurd as he came to them, a quick snap of the neck, then dragging the body into the shadows of the house and the shrubbery. He worked quickly until all twelve were out of the way. He had taken one of their radios to communicate with the four inside the house, giving them intermittent, 'bravos', the all clear sign. When he opened the door, the gaurd was shocked, a coffee cup in hand, headed for his mouth for a drink, totally relaxed and at ease. He dropped the cup, trying for the gun, he had tucked in the back of his pants. His hand never reached it. Damon put two bullets in him in rapid succession, no overkill for him, no reason to waste the ammo when he knew he was dead, a bullet to the head, and one to the heart. The man dropped to the floor, his hand settling next to the dropped coffee cup. 

Damon heard noises, raised voices and scrambling footsteps. Unfortunately, for them, he could tell they were all headed toward him. It was just too easy, picking them off as they came through the door, then shoving them out of the way, as he went looking for the target. 

He was encouraged when the man found him, instead, throwing out a spray of bullets that had Damon diving for cover, and grinning with glee. The man was going to fight back, yes! And, he was actually a decent shot. He had barely missed Damon with his machinegun fire. He was probably a better shot than any if his gaurds, and not stupid enough for Damon to sneak up on. He was going to be the fight Damon needed, but the man had to be forced to use all his bullets first, because Damon knew he wouldn't get into a beatdown with him until he was out of ammunition. But, he was sure the guy knew what his assassin wanted. He just wouldn't give it to him until it was a last resort. He didn't want it, but would go for it if he had to. Damon was going to force it. He played the game of tag, revealing himself over and over, drawing the wrath of the machine gun, until it was out of ammo, and the bastard had to resort to his handgun. Damon played him perfectly, waiting for a moment of exposure, and his bullet slammed into the man's gun hand, ripping a howl of pain from him, and dislodging the gun. 

Damon rushed out at that point, ready for the fight. The man stood waiting, his face twisted with pain, but a look of determination as well. He wouldn't go down easy, his face said, and Damon believed it. He got in a few blows with his good hand, and Damon knew he'd be feeling them tomorrow, and he received a lot of the same treatment from Damon, who didn't hold back just because the guy was handicapped. He knew the guy was a cold-blooded killer, and would have done the same to him. But, in the end, he lay panting and bleeding on the floor, unable to fight anymore, Damon having beaten him to the point of a barely conscious slab of meat. But, Damon felt enough respect for the fight given him that he'd execute him before he severed the head. 

"Thank you..." Damon said to the man, as he pressed the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.  
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Damon hit the strip club, Darling's, tonight. It had strippers of both sexes, always enjoyable for him. He would watch a few bodies get naked, since they all stripped completely, and find a customer that would fit the bill for a night of pain and pleasure. This place usually brought out the type he was looking for. He had taken a shower and was fresh for the night. His kills were a couple hours behind him, and he was in the mood, having dropped the bag with the head of Della Base inside off at Davis' home. Davis would be pissed that he had left it there instead of at the office, but Damon didn't care. Davis wanted the head, and he got the damn head. What did he have to complain about? 

Damon watched the hot little barely-legal girl as she came off the stage. She could dance, a provacative little vixen, who seemed to have been dancing just for him. But, she wasn't what he was interested in, even if she seemed interested in him. She was pretty, but even her youth didn't keep the knowing look out of her pretty hazel-green eyes. She was as graceful as a cat, long and lanky, as she come slinking up to him, her light brown honey-streaked hair, swaying gently across her back as she moved. She was bold, coming strait up to him, letting her short flimsy robe hang open, to reveal a black silk thong, along with a pair of small pert breasts. 

"Hey, sugar. Would you like a real personal dance. Gaurantee you'll have a very happy ending." She cooed. 

"Go back to the playpen, little one." Damon rebuffed gently. This one was too young and not as tough as she liked to act. She still had a soft core, definitely not ready for the major league yet. 

"The name is Jamaica, man, and I can take you on a trip that will relax you just like a vacation at the beach, sweetheart." She didn't give up. 

She was tenacious, he'd give her that, but it was still a firm no. These pretty little things would give you heartburn if you let them. Best not to get wrapped up in their bubblegum flavor. And this, Jamaica; probably her real name too, would be a real tarbaby. No, definitely not. 

"Baby, you are just too soft and gooey. I'm looking for something with a bit more bite. And, you don't want those pretty eyes wet with tears tonight. I'm too much for you to handle. And, I've been kind to you. Now, please take that hot little ass away from me, so you don't distract . I'm hunting for a panther, pussycat, so run along now." 

"Jerk!" She hissed at him, like a feral cat, not cooing anymore, turning around, with a flip of her hair, and swaying away like a breeze. 

Damon had to laugh. She was a spirited little thing, but definitely not on his menu. He was on the hunt for someone wicked and seasoned, someone who enjoyed a good battle, because if it wasn't painful it wasn't worth it. 

A few minutes later his hunt was over when he saw what he was looking for, another tall and lanky lady, but she was seasoned, and also on the hunt. Their eyes met, and the smile curved her crimson lips. Yes, she was looking for the same as he, kindred souls in search of the thrill. He returned her smile, and she strolled over. 

"Hey, Beautiful." She straddled him like a stallion. "Can you fuck hard enough to make me feel it for days? I don't want to be able to walk when you're done, understand?" She bent down and took a painful nip from his lips. 

He grabbed a fistful of he blond hair, jerking her head back. "I am in charge, darling. Don't ever forget that." his voice was cool, but he felt the strum of arousal.  
She gave a throaty chuckle. God, he loved that husky sound. It was so sexy. She stood up, reaching out a hand to him, which he took, letting her pull him to his feet, and they headed out of the club, headed for a rendezvous with destiny.


	3. Fire and Ice

Joann sat at her computer, her fingers still for once, instead of moving over the keyboard. She was working on a new case file, but not at the moment. At the moment she was contemplating, giving consideration to her relationship with her boss, Davis, or her lack of a relationship with him. She wasn't exactly sure what to call it. They would come together for great sex, beneficial to both, but it was more than that, but what. She just couldn't define what they had. They melded together well, and she knew Davis respected her, both as an employee and as a woman. She appreciated that, knowing he wasn't using her, at least not any more than she was using him. But, she couldn't give what they had a name, and that bothered her. So, she sat there, in her head, contemplating, wondering what she wanted out of her life.

Davis noticed that Joann was sitting at her computer, possibly off in a daydream, and he smiled. He should have been asking her what her problem was, if she had hit a roadblock in the case she was working on, and if she needed any help. But, the only thing he could think about was that maybe she was thinking about him, and that made him smile. He wanted her to think about him, to remember their night together, how their bodies came together so perfectly, his hardness into her softness, they fit together like two puzzle pieces, and it felt so good. 

He remembered how his large hands had cupped her ass, lifting her up as she opened herself to him, then letting her slide down onto him, enveloping him in her slick heat, enjoying how she rode him, rocking, sliding up and down his shaft, her body leaning forward, breasts over his face, so his lips could capture first one nipple, then another, to nurse at, hearing her sighs of pleasure. Then, his lips got a little rougher, and his teeth came into play, nipping a little painfully at those tender nipples, as she bore down on him harder, her sheath tighter and hotter, as she brought him closer to his finish, until finally their mouths devoured each others, as they rode out the rush together, bodies jerking in the pleasure of a shared orgasm, as always. They were so tuned to each other. 

Then, she slid off him, and they lay in each others arms for awhile, her fingers carding through his sweat dampened salt and pepper, while his fingers performed the same in her ruby tresses. Her hair was a fit for her passion. She was a fierce lover, and responded so well to his touch. His hands slowly moved from her hair over her body, fingers coming to rest between her thighs, that she opened to him, letting him slide fingers into her slick heat, a passionate moan, as he worked them in and out of her womanhood; and he slid down her body, so his mouth could get to that hot slick heat, and she spread her thighs, to offer herself up like a banquet for him to enjoy. 

And, it was a feast for him, tasting himself on and inside her, his tongue sliding up inside her heat, licking up all the essence she had to offer, over and over, teeth nibbling at her bud, and kissing and sucking, until her body quivered all over, then moving his body over hers, pressing his aching member at the mouth of her womanhood, pressing into her, filling her, her legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him deeper into her slick heat. He rode her hard, but she didn't mind, her hips bucking up into his, wanting it as much as he did, until they rode out a second eruption together. Then mouths found each other tasting each other again, as their bodies shifted, until they lay entwined, his softening member sliding out of her. And, finally they had slept. 

Davis came back to himself, realising his eyes were locked with Joann's. Her lips curved in a smile, and a remembered heat came into her sky-blue eyes. Davis knew she had seen the answer in his own warm brown orbs. He watched her return to her keyboard, fingers moving easily over the keys just as they'd moved over his skin the night before, sure and steady. He turned away, looking forward to the next time those fingers would be gliding so steadily over his skin, making him feel so grateful to be alive, and totally at her mercy, until she was at his, and pleased that they had each other.  
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Damon woke in the early evening hours, streching out aching muscles. He had aches in places he'd never had them before, had used muscles he hadn't used in such ways. That girl must have been a damn contortionist, with all the sexual positions she had him in. And, he had loved it. He was sure he wanted to try some of them with his next lover. He loved the ache all over from a hard night of sex. He climbed out of bed and headed for the shower though, needed to get limbered up, and his special massage showerhead, invented by Blu, was what would work out the kinks. 

The waterfall of pounding water worked miracles, beating his muscles into submission, working out the stiffness, until his muscles had a nice pleasant soft ache.Now he was ready for a night out with Blu. They hadn't gotten together for a night out in a long time, and Damon needed it. 

Damon dressed in well worn jeans and a t-shirt, knowing his friend would be dressed the same, the only time Blu ever got out of his trademark look. Wasn't like he could blend anyway, with that fiery mohawk, not that he wanted to. His personality was far too wild to be contained. They'd find someplace to eat, first, a place they hadn't been to before, then hit some clubs after, for dancing and drinkimg, finally stumbling in with the dawn, to crash for the day, parting ways with the next night. They'd keep in touch by phone after, until they decided on another night out; and they were still tighter friends than people who saw each other every damn day of their lives. They were each others lifelines, only death would change that. Damon didn't even check his look in the mirror, not going to pick up anyone tonight. This was their night, nothing coming into that zone. He locked the door as he stepped out, heading for their prearranged meeting place. They'd go from there.  
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The music was throbbing and loud, the rhythem, hitting the body like a pulsating beast. Damon and Blu both felt it, turning to smile at each other. They could dance to it, but not yet. They headed to the bar for something to drink, maybe several drinks to heat the blood before they made it to the dance floor. When they danced, they always became the entertainment, not that they cared. They lived in their own world and nobody was a part of it. And, they had sex through the dances all night long. There was nothing like them, and they turned any club they were in into an inferno of lust- addled patrons by the time they were finshed dancing. Everyone would head off someplace to fuck, after a night of watching Damon and Blu dance-fuck all night; and their clothes never even came off, but they built up the libido of every customer in the bar, with their erotic, sensual dancing. 

Three drinks later, strait whiskey for Damon and something exotic for Blu, they were on the floor, dancing to a wailing bluesy song, their bodies so tight against each other, they seemed to be one. As Damon's hips undulated and his crotch moved between Blu's thighs, grinding hard, it was hard to believe they weren't really having sex. And, at the end of the dance, they looked blissful, as they returned to the bar for another drink, waiting for the right song for another round of fuck -dancing. Their next dance had the positions reversed, with Blu's hips now undulating, and his crotch pressing between Damon's parted thighs, fucking him hard. Damon's body jerking with each thrust, his mouth open and slack, orgasmic. 

And, that was how they spent the night, drinking and dancing, ignoring everyone around them, concentrating on each other. Neither one had gone past their limit with the drinks, either. Getting drunk wasn't much of a chance for either of them, as well. Both had been drinking serious liquor from an early age, as a way to deal with the misery of their lives, a way to cope. By the age of ten, they'd been able to drink most adults under the table, and walk away laughing at the stupidity of the 'adults'; serving alcohol to mere children, in an attempt to take advantage of them. Fucking perverts. They deserved to be ripped off, which is what the boy's had done, after all the adults had passed out from drinking, having thought they were going to get to fuck the two children. So much for wishful thinking. And, the boys would head off, to spend their pockets full of money they had stolen, without one ounce of guilt. 

They also saved some of it, hidden away in a secret place, where neither of their families would gain access to it; not Blu's perverted uncle who was his pimp, or Damon's abusive farher, who hid behind a badge, while beating his wife and son, in his drunken rages, behind closed doors. By the time Blu turned thirteen, he wasn't useful for sex anymore, to his uncle, and had moved on to selling drugs, to keep the bills paid on the shack he called his home, though it wasn't much of one. His uncle now living in a drugged stupor most of the time, having gotten a heroin addiction, that Blu had to keep supplied. 

Neither boy was spending much time at their respective homes, by that age, acting more like street urchins, with Blu's uncle a drug addict, and Damon's alcoholic father, who'd lost his job at the police department and had to take a job as a security gaurd, which certainly didn't improve his temperament, making him drink even more, making his job security questionable to say the least. Both boys had lost the interest in school, but not in an education, and spent several hours of their days in the libraries, learning computers and gaining knowledge, which their highly intelligent minds absorbed like sponges. And, it was all free. 

By the ages of fifteen, neither boy even pretended to live at home anymore. They'd make their way to the soup kitchens for one meal a day, hustle the streets, Blu selling drugs or something else for a quick buck, Damon just hustling, picking up a modeling gig from an eccentric rich artist that had a thing for using street kids as models for his paintings, and Damon had become his muse. He paid outrageously well, and his paintings sold exclusively to the rich and famous. Damon found it amusing that his likeness was hanging on the walls of millionaires; he dressed in rags, with a dirt-smudged face, looking like a fallen angel; posed on the pier, leaning against an old warehouse wall, or laying on a filthy street, 'sleeping'. The paintings spoke of the heartbreak of a street kid, a total lie for Damon, who was quite happy with his life with Blu. 

The boys would still find a couple hours in the day to hit the library, free education and all, before they looked for a place to sleep for the night. There were abandoned buildings everywhere, which suited them during the summer, and as long as the weather was tolerable. In the winter, if it got too cold, they would seek out a shelter for the night, where no questions were asked, and the ones in charge only cared about providing beds for the night for the needy. They also learned very well, how to protect themselves, carrying well-concealed and extremely deadly switchblades, which both were quite proficient with. And, the street learned to beware of the deadly duo. 

The pair had also managed to find a place to lay claim to, where they hid the money they had managed to save, an unbelievable amount, over one hundred thousand dollars in bills, buried in a coffin with a false bottom, in a deserted morgue. The morgue was theirs. The other street people stayed clear of it, to avoid their wrath. And, the pair, with all their gained knowledge, scavenging and thievery, had managed to make it liveable. They had custom built a bed, that they shared, a new queen-size matress provided by Damon's artist friend, who also provided lots of warm soft blankets and pillows. Blu had devised a solar and battery energy source, so they had a form of electricity to use, when needed, as well as putting in a plumbing system, so they had a water supply and a working toilet. The solar energy powered a heating system for water for showers, as well as heat from the cold. This was all confined to two rooms in the decrepit old morgue, that were kept in excellant repair while the rest of the building fell to ruin around them. Nobody would be aware of it in the confines of the abandoned building, which was the idea. 

But, the life had come to an abrupt end only two short years later, when Damon had gone on one of his regular visits to see his mother, and accidentally had a run in with his father. The man was supposed to be working, as he always was when Damon went to visit his mother, distressed by the new bruises she sported, relieved she was still alive. On that day his father had come home, having been fired from his job, and already drunk when he got there. He didn't even recognise his own son, and began screaming at his wife about her being a slut, fucking a boy in their home. He wanted a fight, threatening to kill both of them, and trying to make good on his threat. But, he was just a clumsy drunk, that Damon laughed at, as his switchblade penetrated, between ribs, puncturing a lung. Damon casually pulled the blade out, before driving it into his throat, then into an eye, sparing the other, so the prick could still see himself, but with only one eye. He could have easily taken him out quickly, but wanted the bastard to suffer, that's why his stabs had been where they were. He would bleed to death, but not too quickly. 

He sat with his mother, to watch the jackass die. Then, he had to get the hell out of dodge, so to speak. His mother was going to take the blame, using a self-defense plea. Damon left her his switchblade, after cleaning his prints from it. He was sorry to lose the blade, but knew he'd easily be able to get another. He hugged his mother goodbye, not knowing he'd never see her again, and headed off to see Blu.


	4. Breathing Frost

Damon woke, to the setting sun, glancing over at his naked friend beside him, with a slow smile. He ran a hand down Blu's body, stopping to tug on his limp cock, playfully, causing the man to open his eyes and smile at him.

"Thank you for the night, brother. It's been a while."

" Whatever you need, man. You know that." Blu husked. "But, I need to get a shower and hit the street. Things to do, places to be. Catch you in the aftershade, babe." Blu crawled out of bed, heading for Damon's bath, to take care of a few things, before he headed out, knowing he'd catch Damon on the wire sometime soon. That's how they worked.  
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Summer was dressed appropriately for a nighttime Sunday service, which was where she was headed. Her husband opened the car door for her and she slid across the leather seat, slapping on the seat belt. Never could be too careful. She was looking forward to the service. Being the wife of a minister suited her. And, they would soon be blessed with twins, a boy and a girl, to be raised in the faith. She rubbed her stomach lightly, thinking about the blissful day to come, though it was some while away. She only had a small bump, to reassure her of the blessed event to come. And, her husband wasn't some poor preacher either. He had been born into a wealthy family, and inherited when his parents had died in an unfortunate accident. By the grace of God, Summer had found out she was pregnant shortly after, and her husband believed it was his parents blessing them from the great beyond. 

Summer wasn't sure about that, but wasn't one to question the beliefs of another, especially her husband. He was a good man and a good provider. It was what she'd always wanted from life and she wouldn't want it to change. She smiled at her husband as he put the car in drive. He gave her a warm smile in return.  
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Damon walked into the diner thinking of what he wanted to eat. Maybe just a cheeseburger. That sounded good. He hadn't had one in a while, and he had a yearning for something just that simple. He decided to go for it. And, maybe he'd even order pizza later tonight. He almost laughed, thinking of acting like a common man again. It actually felt good. He was just so used to being in an elite class that he had lost track of common enjoyments, except when he went out with Blu. Well, it was time to get back to that. So, he found a table, settling in, and ordering his burger when the your waitress came to his table. The pretty young thing tried to flirt with him, but he didn't invite her in. He wasn't looking, and if he had been, she would not qualify. Innocent young things never did. He offered her a polite smile for her trouble, and left a ridiculous tip, but nothing else.

Damon decided to take a walk around the city, just for the hell of it, and ended up at a bar about an hour later. He decided to go in, as he knew the place; it being someplace he'd been before. They had good bluesy music and a dark smokey atmosphere that Damon liked. He could drink some strong whiskey and soak in the music for a few hours, before he headed home. It seemed like the ideal evening for him. 

It was about an hour later when he noticed someone watching him. He had drank about four whiskies by then, and had settled into the music groove, the blues sinking into his skin. He had been feeling really good until he got the vibe of the watcher. And, he got irritated, then. He didn't sense any danger, but he did sense the interest the other man had in him. There was a certain sexual energy being given off. Damon wasn't feeling it though. He wasn't interested in hooking up with anyone tonight. On another night the guy could have been his fling for the night, but not tonight. 

Damon gave him a quick once over. Long, lean body encased in tight black leather, with the crotch laced well around a sizeable bulge. His face was attractive, with sharp angles, lean and hungry, but the lips were full, a great cock-sucking mouth. The hair was full and thick, and a rich shiny silver. Beautiful hair, really.Then, Damon met the eyes, noting that they locked on his. The man gave him a small smile. His eyes were intense, a beautiful shade of light grey, with streaks of an amazing blue. Definitely fuckable, on some other night, but not this one. The guy had the look of what he wanted. He gave a sniff, turning away, to let the hunter know he wasn't in the mood, waving a hand to the bartender for another whiskey, letting the music sink back into his skin. 

A minute later Damon felt a hand grip his shoulder, and swung around, pissed at the interruption. It was the same damn guy, who hadn't gotten the message. Well, there wasn't going to be anything with the possibility now. "You are a persistent prick, aren't you?" Damon's voice was low and dangerous. 

"Perhaps... Or maybe I just know what I want. My name is Frost. Let's go somewhere and fuck." The voice was as smooth as silk. 

"Why don't you just disappear. You're messing with my vibes. Or better yet, go fuck yourself." Damon gave a cold smile. 

"You and I are destined for each other, and we're headed for a collision. So, why delay the inevitable. There isn't a single person here that can give you what I can. I knew you from the moment I saw you, and I know you knew me." 

"If you really knew me you would have stayed away. Then, if we had met on another night, there may have been something. But, after you interrupted my evening there will never be a night. Now, get the hell away from me before you get yourself into some deeper shit." 

"We'll meet again sweetheart..." Frost grinned, turning and walking away. 

Damon was totally pissed now. The guy had wrecked his mood. He decided to leave, heading home.  
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Joann was laying on her stomach, naked, her legs spread wide, her back arched, ass hiked in the air, her hands clutching the four-poster bed desperately. Davis was between her wide spread thighs, sliding his thick cock leisurely into her slick pussy. As he continued to fuck her slowly, she let out a frustrated moan.

"Please... fuck me, damn you."Joann cried. 

Davis slapped her across the ass hard, causing her to let out a little squeal. "It's my birthday, baby. I get what I want, remember. It's all about me. And, this is what I like. I like sliding my dick in and out of that slick pussy of yours for as long as possible. And. The night is just getting started. We have a lot of fucking left." 

"Ohhh... my back is killing me from being arched like this for so long, and my pussy is getting sore from being fucked for so long. Come on and shoot your load, already...please..." 

Davis slapped her hard across the ass again, continuing at his slow pace. "Quiet, woman. You belong to me for the night, to use as I please. That's the deal. I used plenty of lube and your pussy is nice and slick, so stop whining. You can moan later when I stretch your asshole when I fuck it. And, I intend for your mouth to get sore from all the blowjobs you're going to give me. So, get over it. We have a long night of fucking. You have a few days off to get over it, because I plan to fuck you until you can't walk. You are really going to make this my best birthday ever. So settle in for the long ride."


	5. Frost over Ice

Damon adjusted his backpack, so it rode smoothly on his back. It was heavy, but necessary. He had a long hike up the mountain, and some things he needed for this excursion were inside the pack. This hunt was a little out of the ordinary, but Damon would be prepared for anything. This was also a dangerous hunt, his most dangerous. He was hunting a hunter, a true predator, a killer of the first rate, a rogue. He had little information on the prey, other than the fact he supposedly had a cabin in the mountains, to hide out in. So, Damon was headed there now. And Damon had been sent, because he was the best, and possibly the only one who could take out the rogue; a highly-trained and extremely efficient killer, who had been a class one, as Damon was. This was the challange Damon had been waiting for all his life, a true test, that he might possibly lose. But, what the hell was life without a challange? 

He climbed steadily toward the top of the mountain. It was cold, but he had disciplined his body long ago against the effects of heat and cold. His outfit was lightweight, but warm enough. He didn't need the added bulk if it came down to a physical fight...and it might. He knew he couldn't gaurantee it would be a simple assassination. He would be ready, regardless. And, if he failed...there would be noone else to send for the job. This prey would be free, unless some other group had a capable hunter, and a want to take out this rogue. Somehow, Damon didn't think it was even a possibility.

Just as the sun was setting, he reached the top of the mountain. Normally, sunset was a good time to hunt. It was an advantage for a hunter. But, this was not normal. This prey was every bit as dangerous as the hunter, being a hunter itself...just having jumped ship, a shark loose in the ocean of the world, with a hunger for blood. Damon only hoped it didn't feast on him. He liked the challenge, but he hated the thought of a fucking loss, taking pride in being the best. Well, now he got the chance to prove it. The tension was building up, as he crept toward the cabin, wary for traps, surprised at not finding any. Was the man that fucking confident, that he was invincible. Well, he was about to meet his match, Damon thought, as he neared the cabin. That's when he made his mistake, being just a little too confident, himself. 

Damon stepped up to the door of the cabin, the snow crunching beneath his feet, and suddenly he felt the give, realizing the trap, he in his own overconfidance had overlooked. Then, he felt himself falling, snow coming over him, as he went down. The stop was abrupt, jarring. He realized he was in some sort of net. But, before he could make any attempt to free himself, he felt a painful stab into his right thigh, and saw the hand jerk back, holding the syringe, that was empty now. Then, everything faded to black. Damon was aware he had been caught, as the light faded. 

Damon gradually came back to his senses, his head still slightly foggy, but able to recognise the direness of his situation. He had been restrained, on a flat hard surface, flat on his... bare stomach, yeah, he had been stripped of his clothing. This could not be good. His legs were hanging off the surface of whatever he was bound to. Some sort of cable had been wrapped around and around his body and the hard surface, from chest to waist. His arms, effectively enclosed within, pinned at his sides. His hands had been made into fists, and securely wrapped in duct tape, so he couldn't move them. Then, Damon could feel something in his mouth, preventing him from closing it, and a strap around the back of his head, keeping his mouth about half open, definitely unconfortable, and also strangely sexual, he thought, but not in a good way. 

Whoever this freak was, Damon knew he was not going to like it. His bare ass twitched in unwelcome attitude, as he found his legs had been left hanging off the surface, but they were spread, and fastened at the ankles to something ...no this was not good, for him. And, there was no way for this to not be sexual, as he could tell, from the way he was restrained. He may have liked rough sex, but only of a purely consentual kind, and his being the aggressor, as well as choosing his partners. This was not such an occasion. And he felt he would be the recipient of a lot of pain that he was not going to enjoy. But, he also could see no way to avoid it. Then, he heard the distinct sound of ripping duct tape, and a wide band was slapped over his eyes, effectively blinding him, and more added, wrapped around his head...damn it was getting worse. He had to hand it to the phycho. He was quite effective. And, now there was a rough amused laugh heard, and Damon knew he was in serious trouble. 

There were no words. Damon heard some sound, then felt his head being jerked up by the hair, before his mouth was filled with a large cock, being forced into it, and down his throat, gagging him...and his head was held firmly in place, while the man shoved his cock repeatedly down his throat, over and over, causing him to struggle for breath, as his was cut off, the man's groin grinding into his face as he ejaculated down his throat, holding Damon's face against his crotch as he finished depositing his load, and Damon's world faded into his unconsciousness. 

Damon's unconsciousness didn't last long. An intense pain brought him back quickly, and he let out an involuntary moan, which brought out a horrible rumble of laughter from his tormentor, who still had not spoken one word. He laughed again, before Damon felt the pain as some sort of paddle slammed down on his bare ass again and again. The creature brought the instrument of torture down too many times to keep track of. Damon was sure he would be badly bruised and unlikely able to walk if he were released, not that it was likely. Damon knew this monster had no intention of releasing him. He was sure he would be killed, but unfortunately, he knew he was going to be tortured for some time before that happened. And this beating was only the beginning of the pain he would be forced to endure. 

Damon drifted in a field of pain for the next several hours, as his tormenter left him alone with his misery. He couldn't be sure of the passage of time, distracted by everything he'd been put through. But, he was sure it was several hours later, before the man was back. Damon almost gagged as something was shoved into his mouth, then a sudden rush of water was blasting down his throat, and he realized it was a hose, as he choked and gagged at the force of the water. Then, it was removed, as he gasped for breath. Little chance for a reprieve as the man's cock was shoved back into his mouth. He tried to struggle, but his hair was caught , holding him in place, while the man shoved the cock down his throat again, holding him, while he fucked his mouth and throat savagely, keeping the cock buried in his throat, as he delivered another load of cum down his throat, as he lost consciousness again for lack of air, only to be reawoken by the paddle beating him again. This time he was beaten until he passed out from the pain. 

When Damon woke again, he knew he'd been unconscious for some time, and he was aware of the agonizing pain of his beaten ass. But, he could sense he was alone. The feel of the cabin was emptiness, other than himself. But, he also knew he could not attempt an escape. There was no way to free himself. The only thing he could do was wait for his tormentor to return, and he was furious at that thought...furious at his own helplessness. But, he was not afraid... he was never afraid, because he knew death was the endgame...and he had no fear of death...just hated the amount of pain he would have to endure before he was granted that final rest. And, he was pissed that he had failed, and pissed that he couldn't kill this son-of-a-bitch, because the bastard wouldn't give him the quick death he deserved... wouldn't show him that respect that he deserved... the respect that all hunters gave each other... the respect that was his due... that he would have given, if he had been successful in his mission. The sex was a humiliation that should never have happened, another rule the rogue had broken. But, somehow, Damon knew the bastard had no regard for the rules... and the bastard was truly insane now... of that, Damon was completely sure, not that that tidbit of information would help him any. 

Then, Damon heard the sound of the door opening, and the wash of frigid air over his naked flesh. The bastard took some time, apparently hauling some things inside, by the sounds Damon could hear. Finally, the door closed, but Damon didn't feel any better about that. A few minutes passed, as Damon waited, before the creature was back, running cold hands over exposed flesh, causing an involuntary shiver from Damon, which earned a low chuckle from the creature, before he moved away. He was back in minutes though, dumping a load of icy snow onto Damon's body, causing him to gasp, at the shocking iciness. And as he tried to catch his breath, he felt hands scooping up the snow, shoving hands full under his body, enveloping his cock and balls in the freezing cold, and instant pain... then more was scooped up, fingers forcing it into his rectum, until his hole was numbed by the snow. Damon chewed his lips against the pain, but couldn't help the moans that escaped his lips, though he wasn't actively trying to be quiet or stoic either... just knowing the man didn't care about his pain... and the moans seemed to excite him, which Damon really didn't want... to give the bastard any more pleasure in his expressions of pain. 

But, of course, that's what he'd done. He felt hands gripping his hair, holding him in place, as the cock was stuffed into his mouth again, shoved down his throat, as the man sat a brutal rhythem, slamming down his throat over and over, until he suddenly pulled free, delivering his load all over Damon's face this time, with an evil laugh. Then he made his way around Damon, back to his ass, and the paddle went to work again, beating his ass until he passed out from the pain. When Damon woke, the man stuffed his mouth full of snow, numbing it, though it melted, and some ran down his throat soothing the rawness slightly. At that point, Damon felt something against his rectum, having been pressed between his ass cheeks, then he almost let out a scream at the agonizing pain of that something being forced inside him... something hard and large. Damon had never bottomed during sex, and his rectum had never been penetrated, so he was a virgin in that department... until this penetration, of course, and he was being torn open. Soon, he felt the warmth of his blood running down over his cold balls and cock, as the object was lodged deep inside his body. Then he felt the man twist the object, and the vibration started, sending waves of pleasure through his body, the object against his prostate. 

Damon's jerked, as the waves of pleasure flowed throughout his body, then he felt the paddle slam down on his aching buttocks again, and the bastard beat him as the waves of pleasure coursed his body, until an orgasm rocked his body, but the vibrator continued against his prostate until it was pure agonizing pain instead of pleasure, as the man continued to beat him, but slightly less, so he stayed awake this time. Finally, he stopped the beating, but Damon was moaning very loudly now... in too much pain to hold back. The man drug the vibrator out of his torn ass, at that point, but there was no relief, as he shoved his own hard cock into the raw, bleeding, still tight entrance, fucking Damon savagely, finally forcing a strangled scream from those lips. Then, another and another, as he laughed and laughed, until he ground himself into the body beneath him, and released inside it. He collapsed onto Damon's body, laying there for a few minutes, hands running up and down Damon's thighs, grinding down into him as he enjoyed the last traces if his orgasm, before he pulled out of the ravaged body. Damon lost consciousness at that point. 

Damon woke to the sound of snoring. His body was in such pain, but he made no sound, his mouth too dry to make a sound, anyway, and his throat was raw and parched. The snow that had been shoved into his mouth earlier was only a small amount of liquid, and Damon knew he was dehydrated, but there was nothing he could do about that either. He wished he knew how much this bastard intended to torture him before he killed him, and he had a feeling he was going to last a while, as the man seemed to want to keep him alive, just to see how much pain he could endure, Damon being his experiment, apparently, in sexual torture, and any expression of pain from his victim seemed to arouse the monster further. He really enjoyed inflicting pain. And, Damon was the perfect speciman for him to unleash on, the beautiful speciman he could destroy. And, Damon would give him his greatest pleasure, being able to endure so much. Yes, Damon had the phycho figured out, not that it would help him in any way. He only wished his body hadn't been trained to endure, because the monster would definitely use it against him. 

Damon wished he could die, end it all...but his body wouldn't allow it. He didn't want to endure what was sure to be coming. He felt all the beating would cause him permanent damage, but he wouldn't live for that to occur, he knew. He wished he knew how he would finally die though...how the bastard would finally end his life... and knew it wouldn't be anything as simple as a bullet to the brain. No, the bastard surely had something hidious planned for his finale. Damon wished he didn't have the starring role in this drama, dictated by the madman. Those were his thoughts, as he drifted off again. 

Damon was awakened by the paddle slamming down on his buttocks. He jerked awake, making a dry raspy noise. He heard a chuckle, then the hose was pushed into his mouth, and a minute later, the cold water gushed into his throat, and he swallowed to keep from choking, until it began to overwhelm him, and he choked. The hose was pulled from his mouth, then ran over his body, rinsing it off, before his ass cheeks were pulled apart, and the hose shoved inside him, filling his bowels with freezing cold, until he felt he would burst, before it was yanked out. Horrible cramps began to rip through his gut. He felt a plastic bag against his ass, just before his body forcefully expelled all the cold liquid that had been forced inside him, along with the contents of his colon, and he realized the bag also caught the contents of his cock, which let out a small stream from his emptying bladder. The hose was used again to rinse off his ass, not for his confort, but for his torturer's enjoyment, Damon was sure. The man took the bag away somewhere, but was soon back, with a clean body at his disposal. He moved immediately to Damon's mouth, shoving his cock into it. But he moved at a slow pace this time, making deep slow thrusts down Damon's raw throat, taking his time, soaking his cock in the wet mouth, before he pulled it out, and moved down between Damon's thighs, pulling his ass cheeks apart, forcing the bulbous head into the tight hole, then giving a hard thrust, forcng into the hot sheath, causing Damon to moan in pain. He forced his cock in to the hilt, grinding down to get in deeper. 

Suddenly, Damon felt a stinging pain, as a knife slashed across the area between his neck and shoulder, then his warm blood began to run down his back and chest. But, it was only a second... as a hot mouth settled over the slash, sucking at the wound, and orgasmic moans sounded close to his ear, and the man's hips began to pump, driving the cock in and out of Damon's body, at a slow pace, driving in hard and deep, pulling out slowly, then pushing back in, trying to get in deeper with each thrust, as the mouth sucked and gnawed at the wound. Then the mouth raised up. As the hips ground against Damon's ass, getting his cock in as deep as possible. Then, another painful sting, as another slash was made near the first, and the hot mouth closed over it instantly, sucking, moaning in pleasure, as the hips began to pump again, the same slow deep penetration as before. This went on for some time, with more cuts, until Damon was sure he'd suffered at least half a dozen cuts, before the man ground hard into him, and released his load, gnawing at the last cut, like a hungry dog. 

Damon couldn't believe he was still conscious, as the man was draped over his body, licking at the cuts he'd made. Finally the body lifted off his, and Damon tried to take a relieved breath, but he felt the hard vibrator being shoved inside him again, nestled in tight against his prostate, before being switched on, sending waves of pleasure through his body again, as the paddle delivered a hard slap to his ass, causing him to cry out in pain, and it came down hard again, over and over, until his body convulsed in an unwanted orgasm, the paddle continuing to slap hard across his ass until the pleasure turned to pain inside his body too, and he was crying out in hoarse moans at the intensity of the pain inside and out. Then, the man pulled the vibrator from his ravaged body, pushing it into his mouth, to vibrate against his raw throat, causing him to cry out, with small sounds from his stuffed mouth, until he could make no more sounds. Then, the madman pulled the device free. He left Damon alone for a few minutes, but it was only to collect more snow, which he forced into Damon's rectum, filling him as full as he could, numbing him with the cold, then leaving him...for the snow to melt, and his rectum to come back to the stinging burning pain.  
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Damon returned to consciousness slowly, realizing he was laying on his side, feeling a soft pillow at his back, and a warm sheet and blanket draped over his body. At first he thought he had died and gone to heaven, but remembered he probably had a different destiny in store, and opened his eyes to the warm whiteness of what could only be a hospital room. And, he was wearing one of those silly hospital gowns. There were tubes and wires everywhere he looked. He wondered how he had gotten here. Then, he became aware of a figure slouched in a chair beside the bed, sleeping. He wondered who it was, sure it wasn't his tormentor, but curious as to who it was. The figure seemed slightly familiar, but he wasn't sure why. Damon tried to move, and the pain almost overwhelmed him, causing a raspy groan, and the figure lifted it's head, and Damon let out a gasp.


	6. Melting Frost

A big grin lit the face when it rose to face Damon. And, those amazing eyes were actually glowing with amusement. He didn't move though, just sat there grinning at Damon, forcing him to start the conversation. 

"Who the fuck are you, and why are you here?" Damon rasped, unable to growl with his raw throat, feeling hoplessly unintimidating under the circumstances. 

The guy definitely had a flair for the dramatic, clasping his hands over his heart, and letting out a loud gasp. "You forgot me already. I was sure I made a great impression. Even though you dismissed me that night, you wanted what ole Frost had to offer. I'm never wrong in my judgement of character, and I was aware of the once over... and now, this? I gave you my name, baby." The guy tried a winning smile, instead of his grin. 

Not an improvement in Damon's opinion. "Don't fucking call me baby. You sure haven't been given that right." Damon managed to growl, slightly, his throat flaring in pain. "And, you still have said nothing about why you are here." 

I am your hero, dear. I rescued you from the big bad boogie man. So....," Frost gave Damon a wink, "I think I am deserving of a, 'thank you'. And, I definitely should have the right to call you, 'baby'. I also feel like you should reward my heroics... in a manner we might both enjoy... when you are feeling better, that is." 

"You rescued me from that sadistic fucker?" Damon raised a brow, appearing calm, but his mind was whirling. No matter what this guy was putting out there, he was hiding a lot. That sadist had been a highly-trained assassin. Only someone of his caliber could have killed him, and he would have had to be killed. He would not have surrendered. So, Damon eyed Frost with new eyes. This was a very dangerous man...but what did he want with Damon. "How did that happen?" Damon spoke slowly, cautious. "Nobody knew where I was. And, I don't believe in coincidence, like you just happened to be in the area..." 

The smile took an absolutely deadly turn, a dangerous glint, suddenly appearing in those truely amazing eyes. "We, all have our secrets, darling." The voice held a coldness, now, that only Damon would have noticed." I must say, I was so intrigued with you, that I decided to follow you..., until I managed to lose you... Then, I had to take some initiative to find out where you had gone, thus the delay in my rescue..." a look crossed the face, just for a second, but Damon saw the compassion, before it was hidden. 

"You tracked me down. How clever you are." Damon said. "And, you were capable of taking care of the problem, I see. But, don't expect me to be in your debt. I didn't ask for your help. And, you intruded on a situation ...you weren't supposed to be there. So, feel free to leave now. I can recover on my own. And, I have to cross a target off my list. You can put that down on your own list, that I'm sure you have. My boss will pay you well for your effort, as I'm sure you're aware of. But, I'm really not feeling grateful at the present time. Just go away and let me lick my wounds in peace." 

"I agree that you are totally ungrateful, given the circumstances. I put out a great deal of effort, to be of aide to you, and I deserve a little gratitude for that. I will excuse that for now, being as how you are a bit under the weather, but I will expect my due... in time. Now, I will leave you alone... 'to lick your wounds.' But, I will see you again. Of that you can be sure. Be seeing you, darling." He gave Damon a wicked grin, at his grimace, then rose from the chair and ambled out of the room. 

Damon waited a few minutes, then snatched the phone out of the bed railing, dialing a memorized number. The phone rang several times before it was answered, but the voice made Damon sigh in relief. "Operation fuck-up, Blu. I'm in the hospital. Would love to see your mug. Don't know what hospital... trace the call and find out. See you when you get here, babe. Love ya." 

He replaced the phone, not placing a call to his boss. The man wasn't a priority, and he was sure the prick knew everything already anyway... Damon was waiting to find out about his injuries as soon as a doctor made an appearance in his room. He didn't think that sadistic bastard had done him any permanent damage, other than some scars, maybe, but he might have done more after Damon lost consciousness. Damon was in a great deal of pain, even with medication in his system. He could tell from the way he felt, knowing the pain would have been much more without medical intervention. So, for that he was grateful. Now, he wanted to find out just what the extent of the damage was. 

The doctor finished rewrapping his bandages, then turned to give him an update. 'It seems you will have minimal scarring. There were numerous cuts made along your shoulders and on your neck, but they were relatively shallow, don't expect much scarring there, but a couple of cuts along your ribcage were a bit deeper, and they will have some scarring. They may also limit your movement a bit if you develop scar tissue. The cuts to your groin are also likely to scar. The largest part of the damage though was to your scrotum. It seems it was sliced open on the left side, and a testicle was removed. From the information we have, it was apparently eaten by the person who perpetrated these injuries on your person." The doctor paused at a surprised grimace from Damon. 

"This information was provided to us by a Mr. Frost, who brought you to us." The doctor continued, when Damon stayed silent. "We have provided you with a prosthetic to maintain balance, something we've done with testicular cancer patiants before, and they assured us of it's natural feel, saying they couldn't tell the difference. It may be more difficult to father a child, but should not hinder your sex life. Now, there will be some scarring in the rectum. It was torn quite a bit and stitches were required, thus there will most likely be scarring and some disconfort in voiding. When you have anal sex in the future, be prepared for some pain even if being generous with the lubrication. So you might want to take it easy..." 

"I don't practice anal sex." Damon interrupted. 

"Of course not." The doctor sounded sceptical. 

Damon let it drop. The doctor's opinion of him really didn't matter anyway. He was just the medical professional that was there to heal his abused body. His opinion of Damon's sex life meant nothing. And, Damon would heal. Nothing else mattered. And, the sick bastard who had abused him so badly was also dead, albeit, not by his own hand, he thought irritably. God, that part really pissed him off. He so wanted to kill that bastard, a long drawn-out extremely painful death to be sure. But, he would never have that chance for revenge. ◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇  
"Mother-fucker actually ate one of your nuts?" Blu was astounded by Damon's relating of his adventure into the den of madness. He didn't understand Damon's need for that kind of adrenaline rush, the kind that could prove lethal. He liked a bit of a rush himself, but didn't push it to the edges as his friend did. 

"Apparantly, I was unconscious at the time. Almost bit it this time, Buddy. Closest I've ever been. I knew this one could be my last." Damon said. "I was even aware it could be a long painful draw out, though I hoped for a quick death, if it come to that, respect, hunter to hunter, you know. Wasn't prepared for the sexual torture though. That fucker raped me...over and over...plus he forced me to orgasm, too. That was what I hated the most, that he had complete control over my body...and I was helpless against him using me any way he wanted. You know I'm all about rough and dominant sex. But, it is always concentual... never forced. That was total disrespect. He had the right to give me a long painful death. I came into his world, with the intention of taking his life. He had the right to take mine, in exchange. He had no right to rape me. That is against the code. And, I didn't get the chance to take his head as a personal trophy for that atrocity." 

"What would you want his damn head for? Isn't that more of a thing for your boss. He takes those trophies sometimes, doesn't he? Wonder what he does with the damn things. You don't need to have a trophy. You got the memories of all your kills." 

"I wanted his fucking head, Blu. Don't know what I would have done with it, but I wanted it. That bastard was my first fail, you know, and it was a spectacular one. And, he took something from me. Taking his head would have meant taking something from him, tit-for-tat and all that." Damon said. 

"You don't need it. You already have something, unfortunately... you have the memory. I'm sorry. It's not what you want to hear, but you know me. Honest, man. But, for now, I'll give you some more advice. Rest...heal. Then, get back in the saddle... and ride, cowboy, ride. We still have the most important things... each other, for example. Thank God, I didn't lose you. That would be my darkest day. Not sure I could recover from that. Might be the end of both of us. You are my soul man. Can't live without my soul." Blu was silent for several minutes after those final words, and Damon didn't break it. He knew it was Blu's silent tears, and gave him that silent respect, then, "Gotta go, though, man. Places to be, places to be. Stay cool. I'll catch some time with you later." Blu bent down and gave Damon a soft kiss, then ambled out the door. 

Damon missed him already. He would heed the advice though... didn't have a choice. He curled up in the bed and sleep found him, though he was sure the doctor had helped it along with a little something in his IV. He wouldn't complain about that right now though... maybe tomorrow. ◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

"What is going on?" Roze said, suspiciously, as she slipped into the seat of the limo. She had agreed to the date with Blu, but this was a bit over the top, like a night at the prom. 

"What does it look like pretty lady? A boy...a girl...a date." Blu said. 

"A limo?" 

"I know how to treat a lady. This is our first date, and it should be special. A little dinner... a little dancing... maybe some romancing..." Roze raised an eyebrow. 

"Just saying..." Blu said, catching her hand, lifting it to his lips and planting a kiss to the back of it. "I like to go in style, anyway. Not one to do anything half-ass." 

Roze gave a smile. She was glad she'd said yes to this man. And, he was right. She just hadn't been treated like a lady in such a long time, and her job didn't let her feel like one. She was a killer, and there was no sexuality defined there. She could hold her own with the guys. And, they didn't treat her any differently. They expected her to be as tough as they were, and she didn't disappoint. But, it was nice to be treated this way. And, she was going to give in to it, and enjoy. ◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

She was beside herself, in shock, devastated. This was not how her life had been planned. She had been married to the perfect man, expecting her first children, her future set in stone. Now, her world was in limbo. She had been the perfect preacher's wife. It had been all she ever wanted. And, her husband had inherited a nice tidy sum of money so they would live well in the faith. Now, that had all been torn from her. Who would want to murder such a wonderful man? But, that is what had happened. Her husband had been murdered. Now, she was a widow, and her children would never know their father. 

It wasn't like she had to worry financially. That was covered. But, it was the family that had been destroyed. She had expected to grow old with her husband, and raise a family together with him, adding several children to the ones she was expecting. Now, that dream had been shattered. What would she do with the rest of her life. Would it become just a lonely existance. She had been married to the love of her life. And, his flame had been extinguished, long before it's time. As Summer left the cemetary, where her husband's body had been interred into a mausoleum, lost to her forever, her mind was whirling with these thoughts. She climbed into the waiting limo, which would take her home, to an empty house, a place to grieve and a place to find a way to gather her strength and go on. ◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

"Hey, Little Girl Lost, come talk to me." the voice spoke from the shadow of the canopy cover over the doorway, of a long-closed shop. Jamaica glanced in the direction, but didn't move any closer. She had just come out on the streets, to get a break from the club next door to this building. It was where she worked sometimes; and tonight had been one of those times. She had a couple hours left before she headed home, not that she was looking forward to that place either. It could only be described as a place to lay her head, definitely not home, though she wasn't sure what home would feel like, never having really had one. But, back to the shadowy stranger. She wasn't curious enough to put herself in danger. And stayed away from the darkened area, but kept an ear open. 

"I really don't bite, you know." The voice chuckled. 

Definitely masculine. A bit more interest, but still no movement on her part. Nor his either, she didn't believe. 

"I just want information. Not looking for a date. I only like the boys anyway, sweet. Though you are a lovely one. I heard you are the ear of the street and can find out anything about anyone. And, I can pay for that. What do you say, little doe? Can you spare some time?"

"Perhaps." Jamaica smirked. "But, not in the shadows. Buy me dinner and let's start a conversation. Doesn't have to be a hotspot, but it does have to be public. Choose wisely. I don't come cheap. But, I am always worth it." 

"Ok, Sweets. Let's grab a cab, and have a dine with some lovely conversation." 

Jamaica was surprised when he stepped out from under the canopy. His lean hard body was encased in leather, which was a look the boys went for. But, she could tell he wasn't the usual leather-boy. He had silver hair, which she was sure was natural, but he wasn't really that old, only the thirties, for sure. And, he had amazing gray eyes which had streaks of a brilliant blue in them, an amazing combination. But, those eyes also said this was a most dangerous individual, as well. She had to be careful. But, she thought she'd chance it. He followed her over to the street, where she hailed a cab. 

"You also pay the fare." She tossed at him as a cab pulled up to the curb. 

"It was understood. Lead the way, Little Girl Lost."


	7. Blu Days and Blu Nights

Blu was there, as usual, holding the door open to a shiny sports car, one from his collection, Damon knew, though Blu rarely took them out, so he was making this a special event for Damon. Damon felt a little emotional at Blu's display. This was his man, his brother, his soul, and he didn't know what he'd do without this one in his life. Hopefully, he'd never have to find that out.

He slid into the passenger seat carefully, still sore and feeling some pain, after his ordeal. He was beeing sent home with antibiotics and pain meds, as well as instructions on how to take care of himself, and a date to return to be checked out, to see how he was healing. Yippee! 

"Welcome to easy street, babe." Blu said. "Buckle up. Safety first, my motto, and you will obey in my world, which is where you will be staying until fully recovered. You are officially on vacation, got it. Your boss can fuck himself, if he wants to disagree." 

"Yes, Master." Damon gave a weary smile."Your wish is my command. I don't feel up to a fight right now. And, I really could use a vacation. So, take me away, Calgon Blu." 

"Are you trying to be funny, man? Your sense of humor sucks. But, I'll give you a pass, this time, only. We'll get you back to speed in nothing flat, don't you worry. Let's go spend some time together, while you recover. Got a nice spot for us to disappear for a while. You will love it." Blu retorted. 

"Lead on, then, brother." Damon replied. ◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Summer had taken a couple of days since her husband's funeral, just wallowing in the self-pity, then she pulled herself together. She had been a person before she met Steven, a person of conviction, and a person with dreams. She was not a weak person, and she needed to rely on that inner strength, now. Losing her husband wasn't the end of her life. She had lost someone she loved, true, but she hadn't lost herself. 

So, she went through the house, touching everything, remembering, putting it away, to be brought out for her children when they was old enough to need the knowledge of their father, and of their parents together, before they were torn apart. So, she locked the memories away, saving them for the day when they would be needed. 

She had a determined look on her face, when she was getting ready for bed. She had a long day tomorrow. She was going to take over her husband's church. She could lead as well as he could. Her belief was strong, and she'd do whatever was necessary to accomplish her goal. And, she would not fail. God was with her, as he had always been. And, her mission was to lead the congregation to the right path, and to revenge her husband's death, and she would make sure she acheived both goals. She was the Lord's child, after all. ◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇ 

Jamaica danced slowly, sensuous lyrics playing over the speakers, the man in front of her watching with those intense gray eyes, with fascinating brilliant blue streaks. His smile would seem genuine, but she didn't believe it. It was part of the mask he wore. She would have shivered from the cold emanating from those eyes, but knew he wasn't directing it at her. It was all internal. 

He directed the cold at himself, to keep from burning alive. He was aflame with a passion, one that he was sure only one person could tamp. That person had apparently gone into hiding, and even his bosses couldn't find him. Frost had checked all of his contacts, finding not even the ghost of his footprints to lead him in any direction to find the lost heart. 

So, he had come back to see his Little Girl Lost, just to watch her dance, to distract him from his burning. Frost may have fit his physical appearance, but it was not a match for his soul. He should be a Flame, because that's how he felt. And, the obsession he'd developed for the Death Angel wasn't cooling his passion in the least. 

He knew there was only one way he was going to save himself from turning to ash, and that was to come together with the Angel in a clash of wings and bones, until both were dripping blood and other fluids... lots of other fluids... Frost motioned the girl over, placing five crisp one hundreds into the g-string she wore, tweaking one of her pert little nipples, blowing her a kiss, and walking away. ◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇ 

Joann watched Davis pace the office, angrily. She knew why he was upset. He had lost track of one of his agents, his wayward child, Damon. The man seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth. He had been in the hospital only days ago, in serious condition, after an assignment had gone awry in a disastrous fashion. A stranger had called Davis, letting him know, that Damon had been retrieved from the location, and a patient in the hospital, and, the said target had been neutralized. 

None of this information set well with Davis. His organization was supposed to be a secret, but someone had gotten in, a highly-skilled someone. His sophisticated computer system had also been hacked, the stranger having gotten in through a back door, somehow. So, Davis was not happy. And, even her skills in the bedroom weren't going to be able to raise his mood today. 

And, she knew he wouldn't find his lost agent until the man wanted to be found. Damon was a special case, unlike the other agents. That one had always been a little scary, so mysterious. And, it would be a scary day indeed if he decided to turn on them. That was what ran through Davis' mind, she knew, the fear that he would lose whatever control he had over the elusive agent. And, now there was this stranger who had latched onto their organization, which really didn't improve Davis' mood. She turned back to her computer, no more time to dwell on the moods of her boss, and tonight she would go home alone, no rendevous planned. The man needed his space, now.  
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Blaze smoothed down her gypsy skirt, inspected her roman sandles and silky silver tank one last time. Her long brunette hair tumbled over her shoulders past her waist, decorated with a diamond headband, a perfect match for several thin diamond dusted bracelets around her wrists, and the diamond dusted hoops in her ears. Though she had chosen the jewelry, her paramour had paid for it. He loved treating her, and this little gift was just one of the things he'd given her. 

She had only been seeing him for a couple weeks, and the man was totally besotted, she knew, giving a knowing smile at the thought. He might be the one, having all she required in a prospective mate. The man was young, attractive, and a blueblooded heir to a fortune. Yes, a great match, but not quite yet. She wanted to have a little fun before she settled into a marriage. And, going fo a night sail was certainly a nice form of entertainment. It was a beautiful night, and the moon would be bright and romantic. She sprayed on an extra puff of her Pleasures perfume, then headed out the door, getting into her silver Porsche. She'd meet Guido at the pier, for their night sail, wondering what he'd gift her with next, maybe a shopping spree. She might drop him a hint. She always loved to shop, especially on someone else's dime.  
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"Thanks, Blu." Damon took the iced tea his friend handed him. When Blu had taken him to the private airstrip a few days ago, he'd been surprised. When Blu said somewhere private, he hadn't thought he meant a different country. But, they ended up on one of Blu's private islands, ownership under a fictitious company name, something Blu was good at creating, among other things. 

Damon was feeling better, almost healed after a few days in Blu's company, more than the meds, making him feel that way. He was pretty much back to his old self, after what had happened to him. He was ready to be the hunter again, even though a hunter had put him out of commission. But, that had been his fault. He had just gotten so used to being superior to all of his targets, and become arrogant. That monster had apparently become the same. It wasn't a mistake Damon would make again. He guessed the two of them had had a lot in common. 

That thought made Damon unconfortable. But, Damon didn't understand the sexual torture. He had never done anything against his sexual partner's will. It was always consentual. And, he'd never used sexual torture on one of his targets. He wondered just how far gone that hunter was, or if he had always enjoyed sexual torture and unwilling participants. Damon just didn't get it. 

"Sorry to interrupt your musing, but you're thinking so loud I can hear you." Blu said. 

Damon gave a wry grin. "Something you wanna say, Blu?" 

"Yeah. Just wondering if what that guy did made you think about switching from being being a top man all the time?" 

"A guy raping me hasn't changed me from wanting to be in control, Blu. I've always been a top man. The other way is just not my thing, you know that." Damon said quietly. "But, I'd give it up for you, if you wanted, and I'd make sure you enjoyed it, even if I didn't." 

"I'm not into men, Dae, not after what my uncle did. But, when I gave you that blow job a long time ago, I enjoyed it, because I could do that for you. You are not just anybody. I would do anything for you." Blu said. "But, you are the straitest bi I've ever met. Most enjoy a variety of styles, top and bottom." 

"Are you saying you want to fuck me, Blu?" Damon was surprised. 

"No. I don't want to fuck you. But, I think you need me to make love to you." Blu replied. "You need to learn about pleasure, Dae. Just trust me. Give yourself up to me, and I will help you." 

"Blu, my body isn't ready to take that trip. You know how much pain I need..." 

"Leave it to me. I can give you the most exquisite pain, without hurting you, and I can teach you what your body was truly made for, what real pleasure really is, and how to enjoy taking it. 

"I trust you, Blu, but I'm not sure what you want. I said I would give it up to you, but you said you don't want it, but you think I need it. Blu, I really don't think I need to be fucked..." 

"I never said you needed to be fucked, you idiot. I said you need me to make love to you. You need to be taken by someone who loves you, someone who understands your needs. I can give you the pain you crave, without hurting you, and I can teach you true pleasure. You are not an animal, you don't just fuck. I can teach you to feel." Blu said. "So, will you give me that chance?" 

"You know I'll let you do whatever you want, Blu, but don't be disappointed if it doesn't work." 

It won't be a disappointment, bro. You will understand, later." Blu smiled, softly.  
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	8. Frosted Windows of the Soul

Roze gave the appropriate response, her smile looking genuine, even though she really had no feelings about Blaze's engagement. The petite brunette showed off her exquisitely expensive pink diamond engagement ring. It was beautiful, of course. Blaze always liked beautiful expensive things, and men who could provide them. She would never sell herself short, knowing her worth. She had snagged a true blueblood, too, who was so besotted with her, he was totally wrapped around her little finger, willing to go to any lengths to make her happy. And, even though she had surprised herself by accepting his marriage proposal so early in their relationship, she had no misgivings.

She had to share the good news with her coworkers, letting them know she had found what she wanted. And, now she had a year to plan the wedding, refusing to even consider having a shorter engagement. The wedding she wanted needed a lot of time to put together. Everyone at the office wished her the best and went back to their jobs, as did she. She would be cutting down on her hours though, and very soon, needing time to plan her extravagant wedding. 

Roze looked over her folder, checking out her latest assignment. It was actually a fairly easy hit for her, the kind she'd executed many times before, but it was best not to get complacent. That's what had happened with Damon, and he had almost died. She didn't want to make the same kind of mistake. She new that Damon was also with her new boyfriend, guessing she could call Blu that, since they had gone on a date, a very lovely date, she thought, smiling. 

She definitely liked Blu, and was hoping to see him again soon, though she had no doubt she'd be sharing him with Damon, and, curiously, she was ok with that, knowing the two were closer than true brothers, soulmates in a sense, mirrors of each other's souls, almost. And, she didn't want to come between them. She wanted to be a part of it. She wanted to come together with Blu, and be invited into into Damon's life, become a third in the group, as a friend Damon could believe in, and a lover Blu could bond with.  
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Jamaica danced, but was a little off her game tonight, with those strange gray eyes watching her so intently, tonight not so much intriguing as frightening. They didn't even look gray with brilliant blue streaks anymore, but looked like an icy luminous silver, that burned into her like the fires of hell. She wanted to be off the stage, but was also frightened of leaving the spotlight, because he was waiting, waiting for her, and she was terrified, knowing he wanted something from her, but not what, and knowing she would not be allowed to refuse. 

Frost knew his Little Girl Lost was afraid of him tonight, and he didn't really give a fuck. She had something he wanted, and she was going to give it up. He had gone easy on her before, not realizing what a clever girl she was. She had seemed an innocent playing grown-up, and he had bought it. But, she was far from an innocent, a sly creature that was going to be brought to heel. When he had first called her Little Girl Lost, he'd been thinking of her as a lost innocent, putting on a hardass attitude. But, he'd come to realize the name defined her perfectly, in a totally different way, meaning that the little girl was totally lost, and a truely devious mind was held in that innocent pout. 

Jamaica was a superb player for her young age, much smarter than many of those weathered bitches, not putting her intelligence out there for all to see. He'd always known she was clever, but not just how good she was. She had played him, and he was pissed. Oh, he didn't mean to hurt her, but she didn't need to know that. Because, as cunning and devious as she was, she still was young and just needed to learn not to fuck with the devil, or you just might burn to ashes. 

The song ended and it was time to leave the stage. Frost could see her hesitance, but showed nothing as he continued to intimidate her with his icy stare. She didn't need to get confortable, so she could play him again. He'd known she had what he needed when he first met her, but a long conversation with her had changed his mind, led him off a determined path. This time would be different. She would give up her secrets, and she would give him everything he wanted; and she would be left a trembling goddamn mess, because he would teach her what it was like to really play in the damn big leagues. 

About an hour later, fifty-three minutes to be exact, Frost walked out of the dark motel room, leaving the terrified girl laying on the floor still trembling in fear, not sure if she could believe she was still alive. He hadn't laid a finger on her, but he had put the fear of hell into her, and she would never try to play him again. His fascination with Little Girl Lost was over. She was just another boring soul now, useless to him. She had been so easy to break, and now he had information that was of some use to him, and his goal of having the Death Angel for himself was a much more possible goal.  
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The man climbed down the steps, taking them slowly, not wanting to fall. They could become treacherous if one were not careful, but what could you expect from the ancient, crumbling stone, leading down to the underground cavern where the monster was imprisoned. He'd kept it there, on hold, until the time would be right. As he entered the cavern, he smiled. It was there, just as he'd left it, fastenened to the rock altar, the iron spikes driven though each hand and foot, directly into the rock altar beneath. But, he had not relied on only that to keep the creature secure, iron bracelets encircling hands and feet, attached to chains, that had also been embedded in the rock. 

The creature still looked human, even after all his handiwork. He'd gone to a lot of trouble, after all. The body was nude, of course. The head had been shaved bald, better to attach the electrodes to, so he could send jolts of agonizing electricity through the creature. That was fun, watching it jitter on the stone altar. 

But he had done so much more. All the teeth had been removed, as had the tongue, since neither were necessary for what he had in mind. He had also removed all that unnecessary junk between it's legs, leaving only a small hole for the liquid to run from. The other hole wouldn't get much use, as he had no plans to feed the creature, so there would be nasty waste on his beautiful altar, and only put enough liquid into it to keep it alive. He had been forcing a hose down the throat on occasion to pour the urine into it. That was what this creature deserved for hydration. He had removed the lips, eyelids and ears, as well as puncturing the eyes and eardrums, so the creature was blind and deaf as well. He would have destroyed the voice, but he liked the strangled scream sounds it made, with no tongue for speech. 

It's mind had been warped before, but now it was truely gone, which didn't matter, as long as it could feel pain, which was the true purpose for it's existance. He meant to torture it as long as possible, wishing it could be eternity, but knowing that wasn't a possibility. And, now it was time for another session. He flipped the switch, sending electricity through the body, watching it jitter, as the garbled scream split the dank air of the cavern. Well, it took a monster to give another what it desrved, and he would wear that title proudly when it came to this creature. 

Thirty minutes later, he was climbing back up those crumbling ancient stone steps, back to the civilized world, back to sanity; for it took insanity to do what he had to do, and enjoy it, because he did enjoy it, there was no doubt of that. He had pressed the burning brand into the flesh of that creature several times, his most enjoyable, with the last press of the brand against the cheek, marking it in a fiery heat of hell, as the garbled screams tore through the cavern, and the smell of burned flesh added to the stench of the urine running from it's hole, until the creature became unconscious. Then, the fun was over, and he was left to climb back up to the world of sanity once more, thinking on his next visit, and what torture he could come up with, sure he could up the pain.  
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Frost entered his apartment silently, flipping on a light, illuminating the lavish interior. The layout was stylish and expensive, but it really said nothing about the man. He cared nothing for it. It was just for show. He only cared about function, and the stylishness also had function. He stripped off his clothes on the way to the bath, leaving a trail of clothes in his wake, arriving at the bath totally nude, spending some time admiring himself in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors. 

He was not a shy man and enjoyed looking at his nude body, finding himself beautiful. His hand slid over the lean smooth skin, down over his chest, over the curves of his washboard abs, and caressing his sleek muscular thighs, then sliding a hand around to squeeze one of his firm buttocks. He smiled. He was perfect, and he wanted perfection for a mate. The Death Angel fit the bill, and there was no way he would not have him. They would be perfect together. They both craved the same things, the danger, the adrenalin rush, the pain... and Frost would not be denied what he wanted. 

Frost let his hand curl around his hardening cock. This was something he was especially proud of, it's size, long and thick and perfectly shaped, with a smooth velvety skin, growing harder as he held it, admiring it's beauty. He had no false modesty, no modesty at all. He loved his nude body, the perfection of it, and he had worked hard for that perfection, so why not love himself. 

And, he knew that the Death Angel had that same perfection; he'd seen it for himself, after all, when he'd rescued him... except for that one side of the scrotum, where that bastard had sliced him open, to steal some of his perfection. That had made Frost physically ill, and almost out of his mind, that something had been stolen from him, because the Angel was his, every part of him, from every inch of his skin to every hair on his head, to the very breath in his lungs. The Death Angel, Damon... of course he knew his real name, knew everything about him, or would soon. He did know the government group he worked for, the fact that he was their assassin... hunter, as they called their agents, whatever... that he was their best; and he knew this because he was exactly the same thing, only working for another government group, a more secretive one than the Death Angel's, even. 

His group worked exclusively on foreign enemies though. He didn't deal with the locals, though he was aware of them and of Damon's group. And, his obsession with the man had grown as he crossed his path frequently over the last few years, causing him to seek information on the hunter, and coming to know that the hunter was a perfect match for him. And, he'd finally made his introduction, sure of himself, shocked when Damon had not reciprocated, though he hadn't shown it. He had been sure Damon was going to be his that night, so sure that he'd intended to follow him home, forcing a confrontation, that would end in violence and passion. He knew Damon wanted it as much as he did, refusing out of pure arrogance, wanting the confrontation. But, then he'd lost the Angel, and had to backtrack to find him, only to learn he'd headed out for a hit. 

He'd been pissed, at first, wanting to let the arrogant prick go for a while, thinking he'd get him when he returned. But, then he decided to just follow him, fortunately. He had almost lost his hunter to that psychopath, and that was not something he wanted to contemplate. He had to have his mate. So, he'd keep a better eye on him, now. But, of course, he'd slipped away again. And, Frost had been left to stew, after a chat with Little Girl Lost hadn't enlightened him as to how to find his hunter. 

But, she'd spilled her secrets tonight, and he'd found out things he hadn't known about the hunter, things he needed to research. He hadn't delved into the hunter's past before, not feeling the need, thinking his hunter was a lone wolf like himself, but now he knew about Blu... and he was going to find out about that individual, and his relationship with Damon... and for Blu's sake, Frost hoped it was only a friendship. Frost hadn't saved Damon from that psychopath, just for someone else. He had saved him for himself, and god save anyone that got in his way. 

As Frost stepped into his huge shower, running a hand over the seagrass-colored glass tiles, that rose all the way to the ten-foot ceilings, to the water control, setting the temperature at what he wanted, and turning the lights setting to rainforrest glow, before he turned on the waterfall, that would come from the ceiling overhead. The water cascading over him soothed him, and pleasure coursed through his body, his thoughts on Damon, and when he would finally posess him, the feel of the tight sheath stretching to admit his beautiful cock, taking him inside it's heaven, and he grew hard. 

Frost stepped from the shower a half hour later, feeling clean, fresh and sated. His orgasm had been wonderful, as he imagined Damon, up against the shower wall, taking him in, as he fucked him violently; and he hadn't even had to touch himself to come to an explosive orgasm, only cleaning himself after. The trail of his rain-forrest scent lingered behind him, as he let himself air-dry, the expensive special-order scent of the body washes and shampoos designed only for himself. There was also a special lotion mist that finished, spraying down over him after his shower, a special feature he'd had installed; another reason to air-dry, giving the lotion a chance to soak into his skin, keeping it luxuriously silky-soft. 

Once he was dry, Frost spritzed on his cologne, and dressed for an evening out. He had to find someone he could use for the night, someone who liked to be fucked rough, a female that could take it like a man. When he fucked he didn't want a man, to remind him of his hunter, he wanted the opposite gender, somone he could just fuck emotionlessly, and get off with, someone very beautiful, who was into S&M, liking it rough and painful. Frost needed sex, and since his fixation on Damon, he'd concentrated on females, until he could have the hunter, not taking another man to his bed, in place of his intended mate.  
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Blu untied the velvet ribbons, releasing Damon's wrists, then his ankles. He ran a hand down the beautiful body in a loving caress, then moved away. Damon sat up slowly, curious, not understanding. Blu had tied him to the bed, after he'd stripped and laid down on it for him. Then, he'd got out the oils and given him a full deep-body massage, then... nothing... Blu had simply untied him.

"What was that about, Blu?" Damon asked softly. 

"I just couldn't do it... couldn't give you pain..." Blu looked into the eyes of his friend, as he spoke. "I realized I could only love you the way I love, and I don't love with pain. I love you Dae, and I can't cause you pain, even if you want it. I could make love to you, but that's not going to prove anything. It won't change anything about the way you feel. You might even enjoy it... but you would never crave it." 

Blu sighed, before he continued, "I'm afraid you'll have to find someone else for that, and maybe someday you will. But, for now, let's just keep what we have. There's nothing wrong with our relationship, so no need to break it by turning it into something else. I'm sorry I even thought about it... It's just that I didn't want that rape to be your only experience with giving up the control, and letting someone control you. It's ok to submit sometimes... but, I'll let someone else teach you, someone who can give you everything you need, and also love you. You just need to be able to open yourself up for the experience. Now, get dressed, while I wash up. I think we should go for a moonlight sail. It's a beautiful night." Blu ended, walking out of the room.


	9. Icy Flames

Damon shed his jacket, draping it over a chair, the rest of his clothes quickly following, to be dealt with later. Within minutes he was in the shower, preparing himself for the hunt, of the definitely erotic kind. Blu had dropped him off at his hotel, with a simple, 'catch you on the wire.' They were ever casual that way. Damon had fully recovered from his ordeal and was ready for some action. After his shower, he donned his regular hunting wear, tight black leather, and headed out to search the clubs, unaware of the shadow that followed, too pent up to be cautious as usual, but unafraid, anyway. He was sure he could deal with anything that came his way; and if not, it had been a fulfilling life.

Damon still wasn't expecting what happened under the circumstances though. He'd only been walking about five minutes, when he became aware of the shadow, jerking around to catch whoever was tailing him. But, he was met by silent darkness. His eyes peered into it, searching, but not finding; then, the silent whisper of air and the sting at his throat, as he jerked back around, his vision already a blur, and he was crumpling to the ground, only catching a glimpse of the shadow, before his world turned black. 

Frost gave an icy smile, dipping down to lift the unconscious man into his arms. "Gotcha, my pretty." he whispered. "We have a date with destiny."  
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"Well, hello, pretty lady." Blu purred into the phone. "The missing link has returned, and wondered if you'd be free for some together time." 

"You are lucky. I have nothing on my calander that is pressing me for time. What do you have in mind?" Roze replied, smiling slightly, happy to hear from Blu, and knowing Damon had now returned, but sure their boss wasn't aware of that fact yet. 

"How about I surprise you." Blu came back. 

"That doesn't give me any idea how to dress." Roze protested. 

"Keep it casual. We'll go shopping for our outfits together. That's when we'll decide about our date." Blu countered. 

"Boy, you do like surprises. You aren't even sure of the date... ok... how about a pick up time?" Roze asked. "You'll have a pick-up within the hour, my lady. Warm thoughts." Blu laid the phone down, smiling, feeling good. He had hoped Roze would be free, and in the mood for him, and he had been rewarded. The night was going to be fun. It was already off to a great start.  
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Damon revived slowly, not allowing his captor the privilege of knowing of his consciousness, keeping his eyes closed, trying to gather what information he could about his surroundings, in the dark. He could tell there were lights on, though they weren't bright, because of the dimness behind his lids, low lights, then. And, he was laying on a bed, soft expensive linen, he could tell. He wasn't restrained, he smiled in his head. His captor had been a fool, he thought... a soft chuckle surprised him. 

"I know you're awake, darling. I haven't survived this long by being stupid. But, please don't try to assault my person... yet. That would be unwise on your part. We have some business before the fun starts, and I think this business will actually be fun for you, but it will be totally your choice if you want to enjoy this business or not." the vaguely familiar voice said. 

Damon thought about it for a moment, then decided to open his eyes. He sat up on the bed, looking over at the familiar figure reclined in a side chair, similar scenario, recognizing his so-called hero, his rescuer. He frowned, not happy in the least. This was not someone he wanted to see again. 

Frost smiled at the frown. It was ok, for now, but he meant to see a smile later, in fact, he was counting on it. "It's ok. I understand your disappointment. But, I brought you here for a reason, a couple in fact. And, I think you will forget that disappointment soon, I assure you. I have given you an early Christmas present, this year." Frost said. 

"Why didn't you just ask? You had no damn reason to take me. What fucking drug did you use on me that worked so damn fast... I had no time to react at all." 

"Secret... and if I'd asked you would have refused. Couldn't accept that. So, here you are..." 

"I'm not staying." Damon snapped. 

"Oh, I think you are." Frost replied. "If you'd reach up and touch your throat, you'll find you have been restrained. But, mind you don't try to remove it, or you will be immediately sorry" 

Damon's hand flew to his throat, to feel the thin weightless chain that rested against his skin. "What the fuck...?" he growled. 

"It's tiny, but very powerful. If you can't restrain yourself, it's capable of doing the job for you. It has a very nasty bite. I don't want to prove it to you, so please don't force my hand in this. I want you to have a fun evening, so don't ruin it." 

"What do you want... sex? I already said no. I don't change my mind." Damon sneered, taking his captor at his word about the chain around his neck, sure he was telling the truth. 

"Oh, I know what you said, but I also know what you thought. You wanted me, but refused. Just arrogance on your part. We were meant to be together, and you'll know it after this night." Frost assured Damon. 

"We are not going to fuck, not tonight or ever. You'll be lucky if I don't fucking kill you." Damon spat. 

"We will fuck. Not only will we fuck, but we will FUCK! And, you will scream my name when you come. I will accept nothing else." Frost smiled. "But, that is for later. I want to give you a present first. Come with me. I can't wait for you to see your present."  
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Roze answered the chimes of her doorbell, wearing confortable jeans and a silk tank, with slouch boots and rose gold hoops, her face only lightly touched by some lip gloss and mascara, her Carmel glazed hair loose around her face, and the scent of her Chanel perfume drifting around her. She had a Calvin bag draped over her shoulder, and her cell phone slid into the front pocket of it. She smiled to see Blu, in his trademark long white tank and tie die sneakers. But, the white Porche at the curb was a new addition.

"You up for some fun, pretty lady?" Blu smiled, catching the tips of Roze's fingers, bringing her hand up to his lips for a soft kiss. "For you, baby. Would you like to drive?" 

"Are you kidding?" Roze replied. "Of course." 

"If you like it, it's yours." Blu said, causing Roze to glance at him in surprise. "Just brought it from the showroom. It's new. Told the man it was sold if my lady liked it. So, he'll be waiting anxiously to find out your opinion, and if he gets that big fat commission, so please don't put the man in the poor house by not liking it." Blu smiled. 

"Poor house, huh?" Roze scoffed. "Wouldn't want that, would we?" 

"No... we wouldn't." Blu chuckled. "Shall we go get this evening started then, my lady?" Blu offered an arm. 

"Yes." Roze closed her door and tucked her fingers into the curve of Blu's elbow, as he led her to the driver's door, the keys dangling in the ignition. 

"Where are we headed?" Roze asked. 

"You decide, pretty lady. Pick a store. We'll make the decision on clothes then. Just drive around and make a decision on the spur. Let it lead you to our destination." 

"Ok." Roze laughed. "Let's surprise ourselves."  
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Damon stood at the bottom of the stone steps looking at the stone altar, with something that looked like a body draped over it. He didn't know what to feel, other than disgust. "What are you into...human sacrifice?" he growled at Frost. 

"Not really. This is a special case. This one is yours, though I did enjoy playing a little before I gave it to you." Frost chuckled. 

"What makes you think I want this creature. I am not into this shit!" Damon snapped. 

Frost couldn't help laughing. 

"What is so damn funny?" 

"You." Frost chuckled. "I know your work. This is nothing you couldn't do easily," Frost said, "for a reason." he added slyly. 

"Don't have a reason..." Damon returned. 

"Of course you do." Frost howled. "You have the best reason in the fucking world." Frost paused for a moment. "But, of course... you don't know... you never saw... this is your fucking tormentor, the demon who treated you so rudely... your own personal devil. I saved him for you... although I couldn't resist a bit of fun..." Frost sneered. 

"This is...?" Damon was at a loss. 

"The one and only." Frost smiled. "And, it belongs to you. You can choose how it dies, hopefully you are in the mood for revenge... because I'd love to see you covered in blood... it's a bit of a fantasy of mine, actually... that we fuck, covered in blood... doesn't need to be our own..." Frost growled. 

"Ok." Damon replied coldly. "You'll get your fuck. I'll consider it payment-in-full for this present." Damon walked forward, to stare down at the creature who'd tormented him. "And, you can have your fantasy, too. I'll let you be in charge. You can have anything you want from me for this. And, you are right... I do want a bloody revenge." Damon finished.  
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Roze was giggling, something she couldn't remember ever doing, since she was a child, many years ago. But, she was having so much fun, unbelievably, putting on a bit of a fashion show for Blu. The store had been closed, but Blu had been able to get it opened just for them, and she had been working on a decision of what clothes she wanted to try. She had decided she didn't want to be too dressy, but a little classy and a little casual. She had decided she'd like to go for something that would work in the in between. She had loved several outfits that fit the bill, but finally settled for a flowy-legged pair of soft suede slacks in a medium gray tone and a jasmine blue cashmere t-style top. She picked up some soft gray suede stack-heeled short boots. She had finished with a bit of color for her lips and eyes. Blu added a rose quartz gold watch to her look, then told the clerk they would take all the outfits Roze had liked, though she had the outfit she wanted for her date.

Roze was astonished at Blu's disregard for prices, as he had spent thousands on her clothes, but he brushed aside her concern, telling her it was only money, and it was made to spend. Then, he told the clerk he'd need a coordinating outfit for himself, as well as the men's version of the watch. She was quick to comply, and soon Blu had a turquoise short sleeved shirt and some soft gray linen trousers, as well as some confortable gray silk socks and loafers. His watch was a perfect match for Roze's. Now, they were ready for that date. Blu gave them the address for Roze's clothes to be sent, then they were out in the car and headed in the direction Blu had decided for their date. He made a call on the phone, and was assured everthing would be ready when they arrived, but kept it a secret from Roze, giving her a sweet smile when she asked. 

Roze was surprised, but delighted, as they drove up to the building, and Blu told her they needed to go in and take the elevator up to the roof. She had seen the helicopter on top of the building and figured they were going for a ride. 

"Yes, my lady, we are going for a flight over the city. It is beautiful at night. Then we will have dinner on a private island, before we go to a museum opening, or after, whichever you prefer." 

"This is so wonderful, Blu. It will be a perfect night. But, let's save dinner, til after, if you don't mind. I'd prefer the museum before dinner." Roze smiled. 

"Whatever you prefer, pretty lady." Blu took her hand as they entered the building. "I live to see you happy." 

"Well, you have been totally successful tonight then. The evening is perfect, and you are perfect for me. I think you are what I needed in my life. Thank you for coming into it at just the right time." 

"You are what I've needed for a long time my lady, so thank you." Blu leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her cheek as the elevator doors closed.  
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Damon was breathing hard from his exertions, and his beautiful leather hunting clothes were streaked with blood. Killing the monster hadn't been as much fun as he'd thought, hadn't lasted as long as he needed, but it wasn't like he hadn't enjoyed it. He had started by skinning the bastard, before he'd cut pieces off him until he had to remove the vital parts. The man was dead long before he finished cutting him up. And now Frost was waiting for his payment, eagerly beginning to strip Damon.

Damon stood still and let it happen, then watched as Frost removed his own clothes. When Frost had finally stripped all his own clothes off he scooped up blood from the altar and began to run his hands over Damon's flesh, painting him red with it, before he did the same to himself. Then, he stepped back to admire his handiwork, walking around Damon, getting a full visual of his naked body coated with the lifeblood of the bastard who had taken something vital from him. 

Frost could feel the rage flooding his body, as he thought of how that son-of-a-bitch had gotten to Damon first, had experienced the thrill of being the first to own the man. Frost hated that someone had taken what was his, and he felt that Damon was his, that his virginity had been his to take, to own. Yes, Damon was going to be his, but he hadn't had him first. The only thing that gave him any satisfaction was the fact that he was going to be the last. Damon was never going to have another. He wouldn't allow it. And, if Damon was fool enough to think there would be anyone else, Frost would simply take care of them, extinguish anyone that ever thought they could touch his property. 

"I want to fuck you first, right here, draped over the alter, just a simple good old-fashioned slamming my dick in you as hard as I can sort of thing. I want to fuck you hard and violent in his blood. Then, we can go upstairs and shower and fuck some more, before we move to the bedroom and really get crazy. The first part is just for me. I don't want to give you any pleasure, I just want to get off in you. Fucking you in the shower will just be for me too. I want to hurt you, fuck you hard enough to hurt you, but only for myself. Once we move into the bedroom, I want to do things to you that will please us both. I need to see how much pleasure I can make you take. I want to fuck you until you can't even think anymore, until you beg me to stop, until you promise me your soul..." Frost hissed. 

"I promised you the fucking, but my soul isn't negotiable. All you get is the body. Do whatever you want to it, but only tonight. Tomorrow it returns to me." Damon replied. 

"What if I refuse to give it back?" Frost asked. 

"You don't have that option. It's a one-night only deal. If you try to own it, you better be prepared to kill or be killed. I owe you nothing after tonight. You will be paid-in-full." Damon said quietly. 

"Well, we better get started then. I intend to get my money's worth." Frost smiled. He shoved Damon over to the alter. "Now, be an Angel and spread your wings over that. In fact, spread that whole delicious body over it, spread yourself wide open for me. Now, I'm gonna take you rough and raw, and you aren't gonna enjoy it. But, that's the point. This is for me. The only lube I'm using is blood, and part of that blood will be yours. You are gonna tear, but it's to be expected, under the circumstances." Frost said. "Come on, Angel. Be my sacrifice." Frost chuckled, coldly. 

Damon went face down on the altar, without a word, spreading his arms and legs wide, clenching his fists as his only confort for what he knew was coming. This was a pain he didn't want, but he had no choice. He always paid his debts. 

Frost stepped forward, catching one of Angel's wrists. "It's not that I don't trust your word, baby. But, I really want there to be no resistance," Frost clamped the wrist into a cuff, then moved to do the same to his other limbs, leaving Angel spead-eagled on the stone. Then, he brought out the strait razor, slicing it across one of Damon's wrists, producing an alarming amount of blood, but only a shallow cut. He ran his hand over the slice, coating it well, before he moved to his cock, and made the transfer. 

Damon hadn't even let out a hiss, at the painful cut, and ignored the burning pain of it after. But even he couldn't hold in the moan when Frost used one hand to part his buttocks, before pushing the blood coated hard cock against his tight star, forcing it inside him, and pushing hard until he'd fully seated himself in the tightness and heat. The agonizing pain had Damon pulling at the cuffs, a reflex only, but unable to lesson the pain. He'd felt himself tearing as the large hard cock had forced itself up his rectum, and now all he could feel was an agonising fiery pain. 

Frost didn't wait for his body to adjust, pulling his cock out to the tip, then slamming it back in, hearing the strangled moan that escaped Damon's lips, making him smile, as he repeated the movement, and kept going, fucking into the tightness as hard and deep as he could, grinding down into that ass, just to hear the pain. He rode Damon ruthlessly, enjoying every cry that escaped his lips. And, as his orgasm approached, he ground down into that body as deeply as he could, holding himself pressed tight, until he'd emptied every drop inside it, before he pulled himself free. He walked around the limp body, surveying the damage, satisfied, before he released the cuffs. 

Damon wanted to curl up and lick his wounds, feeling so miserable. But, it was not to be. 

"Come on. Get your ass up. We're going upstairs now. It's time for my next fuck. In a shower, remember. We need you cleaned up, so I can erase that bastard from you and start fresh by planting myself there. After that, we can both have some fun." Frost headed for the stairs, not waiting for Damon, fully expecting him to follow, even if he had to drag himself. 

Damon managed to lift himself off the altar, almost collapsing beside it, feeling the blood run down his thighs, along with the other man's seed. His head spun and he felt dizzy, but he forced himself to stumble to the crumbling staicase, and start the agonizing climb, having to crawl at times, but he finally managed to make it to the top, where Frost was waiting impatiantly. 

"Took you long enough." he sneered at the gasping man at his feet. "I'm ready for that next fuck. Let's get in the shower. Looks like I'm gonna have to fasten you to the wall, since you don't look like you can just stand there and take it like a fucking man. What a pathetic bitch, you are." Frost turned around, heading down the hall to the spare bathroom, where he had all the equipment for entertainment. This wasn't his first rodeo, after all. Damon simply crawled behind him, unable to force himself back to his feet.  
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"Would you like to come in?" Roze asked, as Blu stood in the doorway of her high rise apartment. The night had been fabulous, so far, and she wasn't ready for it to end.

"Would you like for me to come in, pretty lady?" Blu smiled. "And, before you answer, just remember their may be consequences for your actions. I don't come without a few complications." 

"Damn the complications. I do have some ideas, but I'll deal with them later. I'm not exactly without complications myself. I'd like to see if we can work them out together." Roze husked. 

"Well, ok, then. You were forewarned." Blu stepped inside, closing the door behind him. Then, he pulled Roze into his arms, and their mouths found each other and became one. Both pulled back a few minutes later, breathing hard. 

"Bedroom...?" Blu asked and Roze nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling him in that direction.  
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Damon let out a low moan as Frost thrust up into him hard again, still not used to the pain. When he had drug himself into the bathroom, he'd stopped at the shower and Frost had drug him inside it, before hauling him onto his feet, hissing into his ear that he'd better stand the fuck up long enough to be fastened into the damn wall rings. Somehow Damon had managed to keep himself upright until the locks clicked in place, before his strength gave out and he sagged down, hanging suspended from the concrete wall of the shower. Frost had turned on the water then, letting it cascade from the ceiling over the both of them. The water had actually been a relief for Damon, it's warmth soaking into his skin, which had been chilled from his time in the underground room, plus it had washed away all the tacky dried blood from his body, even rinsing the blood off his thighs. 

Frost had grabbed a bottle of body wash and finished the job, cleaning the blood from both their bodies. Damon hadn't been able to stay silent when Frost had forced some of the soap up inside his raw rectum, ramming fingers inside him to scrub him out. Frost had explained that he was cleaning out the old so he could fuck the new into him, but making sure he removed all the soap from inside his hole as well, saying the water was all the help he'd get, before he had gripped his hips, lifting his ass into a better receiving position, pressing his cock between the buttocks, and thrusting in and up hard. Damon had let out a strangled cry of pain, trying to jerk away. 

But, he was securely fastened. Frost had only let out a laugh, gripped his hips tighter, lifting his ass a bit more, then jerked it back as he rammed his cock forward and up into him again, causing him to howl out, as his raw swollen hole was forced open to admit the brutal invader. Frost set a brutal pace, holding Damon in the perfect position so he could get the deepest penetration, as he jackhammered into his raw rectum, until Damon could no longer hold back his agonized screams, and they echoed through the room as Frost pounded into him. He had passed out before Frost finally reached his orgasm, pumping his seed into him for a second time, finally claiming the body as his own, having erased all the essence of it's first intruder from the battered walls. Now, they were owned by Frost. 

Damon wasn't conscious when Frost turned the water off, or when he released him from the wall, lifting him into his arms, cradling him to his naked chest, and placing soft kisses on his lips. Frost carried his conquered warrior into his bedroom, lying his naked body down gently on the soft linen of the bed. Then, he got out the healing creams and oils, rubbing them into the raw rings at the wrists and ankles, before working them between the buttocks, into the anus, soothing the torn swollen mouth of his entrance. He coated the acrylic wand with the healing cream, before easing it into the abused hole, sliding it up into the rectum, coating the battered walls with it's healing potions, before easing it back out of the body. Later, this toy would be used to give the most ultimately exquisite painful pleasure. 

Frost then brought out his pleasure oils, choosing a lavender scent, and giving a full-body deep muscle massage, working the oils deep into the luscious skin beneath his fingers. In a few hours, Damon's body would be recovered enough from the claiming to be ready to accept the lovemaking of the ownership. And, Frost was going to make sure Damon understood he was now owned by Frost. Frost had his mate, and he was going to have it understood by all that this was his territory now. Damon wasn't giving out any more free passes. He belonged to Frost now. 

Frost planted a soft kiss on the sleeping lips, with a smile. "Take a couple hours rest, love. Then, you are going to give up all your pleasure to me. I am going to hear your screams of ecstacy soon, as I make you beg for me. Sweet dreams, my darling, sweet dreams."


	10. Burning Angel

Damon let out a soft moan as he was turned over onto his back, his sore body bringing him back to a conscious state, which he wasn't sure he wanted. But, he wasn't a coward and would face things head on, so he forced his aching eyes to open, just shuttered slits against the light, which was actually a soft dimness that didn't threaten his corneas.

He wasn't surprised to meet the eyes of his demon locked on him. The bastard had certainly taken his pound of flesh, so to speak, but Damon knew it wasn't enough for the bastard. And, he had promised him one night... which wasn't finished yet, he was sure. He hoped his body could take the abuse. 

"...ahhh... that look..." Frost sighed. "You need not strengthen yourself for any more abuse. I told you true what I planned. It is now time for the pleasure... though I have to say there was pleasure for me already... but now I want to feel your pleasure, as well. I want to own that. I want to feel your pleasure all the way to my soul... and I want you to feel me as you have never felt anyone before." 

"I think I've felt you already... " Damon rasped. "It wasn't a pleasant experience." 

"That was just a punishment for your prior rejection. You earned that. Now... I want you to know what you missed with your rejection. Now... you will really feel me. I will own you by the end of this night... that is a gaurantee. And, you will crave me... crave the feel of me inside you... You will become an addict for what I offer. And, I will make sure you get your fix, baby..." Frost purred... his voice sending a shiver through Damon that he didn't understand. 

"....not sure if my body can take any more fucking... to be perfectly honest... " Damon retorted, to distract himself from the effect of that voice. "But... I don't renege on any deals... so if you kill me... at least I will be paid-in-full..." 

"I won't kill you, doll. Your mental state may suffer some deterioration... as I will completely overwhelm your senses as I takes you to heights of pleasure you have never known. I've been waiting all my life for you... for the chance to give you everything I have... and now it will happen. My only regret is that you were tarnished before I could own you." Frost smiled. 

"You will never own me..." Damon stated. "That is an impossibility. No one will ever own me. All you can do is have me... and only for this night. Once my debt is paid... we will never see each other again. If you try to invade my life, one of us will die. I won't be arrogant enough to think I am invincible again. But, I gaurantee you, that you won't have an easy win... you will wear the scars of our battle." Damon vowed. 

"I wouldn't want you if you were an easy win..." Frost said softly. "I don't want what anyone else could have. I want what nobody else even dares dream of. And, that is what you are. And... that is why you are going to be mine." 

Frost shoved a hand under Damon's head, tangling fingers in his curls, jerking his head up, until they were so close they could inhale each others breath. "Now, let us finish this night in a manner worthy of the both of us." His lips crushed down on Damon's, tongue diving into the wet warmth of invitation, and, after a instant of hesitation, from the shock of it, Damon's own tongue met his in the battle. A minute later Frost pulled away, a grin of victory... knowing Damon most definitely wanted more of what he had to offer. 

Damon literally kicked himself in the ass, as he panted hard from the kiss. And, he could feel the hardness of his own cock as well as Frost's, as it throbbed against his own. His only consolation was that Frost was just as hard as he was... just as aroused. So... he wasn't the only one who needed it. He just didn't understand why this arrogant bastard had to be the one to do this to him. 

"...well... are you going to fuck me..." Damon gasped, irritated. "Or are you going to just grin like an idiot..." 

"Don't worry, baby. I'm going to do more than just fuck you. I'm going to take you to heaven, and burn you in the flames of hell, before I'm done with you. And, I will make you beg for me, before the night is over." Frost ran a hand down Damon's body, gripping his cock hard and giving it a quick stroke, causing Damon to gasp again, as he pulled his head back for a little more oral exploration. 

Frost began with the mouth, tongues tangled in exploration, until each knew the taste of the other and it was locked in memories, and Frost bit hard into Damon's bottom lip, then lapped the blood with his tongue. Damon wasn't about to remain passive, and returned the favor, causing Frost to grin... enjoying the total participation from his conquest. Then his mouth slid across his face, stopping for a quick hard nip to the ear lobe, then swirling his hot wet tongue in the interior, lapping it generously, before returning to suck hard on the lobe like it was a teat being nursed by a hungry baby... causing Damon to squirm delightfully. Frost gave it plenty of attention, then moved to the other side to deliver the same treatment to it's twin.

By the time he'd turned each appendage plump and swollen, he had moved his mouth down to Damon's throat, where he sucked and bit, and marked his prize completely. Damon was moaning now, unable to hold back, with the fingers of pleasure running through his body. Frost knew just how much pain to give him to achieve the ultimate pleasure. The teeth drew blood, that was lapped up eagerly, but they never went deep enough to scar. Frost wanted to mark, but not put ugly scars on his possession. He enjoyed the beauty far too much to mar it. 

His next target was the already hard nipples straining for attention... which he had no intention of denying them.By the time he was finished they were rosy red, puffy as ripe cherries, ready for plucking. He grinned down at the mess writhing beneath him, Damon looked beautiful beyond imagination... and there was still a long way to go. He couldn't wait to see him totally wrecked. But, there was no way Damon was going to get there if he didn't do something to ensure it. Frost lifted himself off Damon... causing the man to gasp and stare at him with lust-filled confused eyes... unable to articulate a question.

Frost went over to his closet, opening it to reveal more doors, which he opened to reveal his treasure trove of erotica. He pulled several things out for now. Everything in his arsenal would be used in the future. But he had special toys for tonight only. 

Frost brought over the leather cuffs, fastening them to Damon's wrists, then locking them to the bed. Damon couldn't free himself without the keys to their locks. Now all his pleasure would be controlled by Frost. Frost next fastened the leather cock ring around his straining erection... couldn't have him accidentally coming too soon. Frost would also control that. Damon would come when Frost allowed it. Next, he lubricated his toy well, then eased it up inside Damon. It was small enough to not be painful, but was still a nice snug fit. Frost positioned it perfectly, before turning it on... setting the vibrations against the prostate. Damon immediately began to squirm, his body alive with pleasure coursing through him. 

Now, everything was perfect, as Frost climbed back into the bed, to continue. Frost was going to drive Damon to the edge of insanity with pleasure... then he was going to let him drop. He was going to gaurantee that Damon would be coming back for more, because the man would not be able to get what he needed from anyone else.That was always the case with addiction 

Frost's mouth continued it's torment, in addition to the vibrator lodged in Damon's ass, buzzing against his prostate softly. The lips slid along ribs, as teeth nipped painfully, then stopped at the dip of the belly button, wallowing the tongue in it, and sucking at it, increasing the streams of pleasure rushing through Damon's body. Frost played there for a while before he moved down to the thighs, working his way up them slowly, kissing and biting... marking. His mouth finally found it's way to the tender flesh between the silky thighs, teeth worrying at the thin scar on one side of the scrotum, knowing it would be particularly sensitive, making Damon squirm even more, panting, hissing through his teeth at the added arousal. He wanted to come so bad... but was unable to do so. He didn't know how much of this he could take.

Damon let out a shriek when Frost's mouth unexpectedly came down on his cock, engulfing it completely, down to the base. Then Frost began to suck him hard, sliding up and down his hard length, teeth scraping along it's underside. He kept at it until Damon was thrashing on the bed, moaning loudly, desperate for a release Frost wasn't going to give him yet. Frost pulled the vibrator from it's snug home... replacing it with his mouth, tongue pushing up into the tight sheath, feeling it clench hard on his appendage, with a chuckle , and causing Damon to arch off the bed as a desperate cry tore from him, before his ass pushed back against Frost, trying to get the tongue deeper inside him. 

Frost was quite accomadating, thrusting his tongue repeatedly into that tight hungry heat, until Damon was whining and writhing against the hungry mouth, devouring his most private place.

"Noooo....!" Damon wailed, when Frost pulled away, squirming helplessly. 

"Ohh... you liked that, heh." Frost chuckled. "Well, you are going to like the next part even more, baby. It's time to drive it home... so to speak." 

Frost began to coat his cock with lube, as he watched Damon squirming on the bed, then he grabbed the wedge pillow off the floor, pushing it beneath Damon's hips, them wedged himself between those sleek thighs, gripping under both knees and lifting them, pushing them back toward the heaving chest, lining his cock up with the entrance to heaven for him. He entered Damon with one hard thrust, causing him to cry out in pain. 

But, Frost was too experienced to let it stop there. He began to thrust hard, sliding over the pleasure nub again and again, and soon Damon was matching him thrust for thrust. And, Frost fucked him hard, until he was begging for release, and continued until he was screaming for it... until there were only screams, because words were impossible... and then he unfastened the leather cock strap and sent him over the edge. 

His cock pounded into the jerking body beneath him, thrusting hard against the muscles clenching his cock so desperately, through his own orgasm, as well as Damon's... until Damon was a helpless mess beneath him. He pulled the wedge from beneath Damon's hips, letting him sink into the matress beneath him, exhausted and gasping. He slid over to the side, and reached up to unlock the bound wrists, letting them slide limply to the bed. Then, he lay down next to his lover, hands sliding slowly over sweat-slick skin, easily caressing his conquered warrior.

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Blu woke slowly, turning to face Roze, who still slept, the morning's rays blocked from her bedroom with heavy tapestry-patterned drapes which matched the bed linen, in a beautiful light silver-sage color. Her decorating was tasteful, he thought. But, her best decoration was herself, as she lay nude, snuggled in close against him, her head using his shoulder as a pillow. Her lean athletic body didn't look so hard now. And, his skin looked so pale against her dark golden tan. But they fit so well together, looking like an expensive painting with their contrasts. And, they had fit together so well last night, as they rocked in perfect harmony. 

Her perfectly coiffed multi-toned blond bob was a wistful mess right now, after their heated night. She would probably think she looked a wreck, but he thought she had never looked more beautiful. He didn't believe he could ever find her anything but beautiful, no matter what she looked like. This was the woman he had been waiting for. She was it for him, and he hoped she was having similar thoughts about him. Blu could understand why Damon trusted her to have his back on the job, because he trusted her with his heart in the real world. 

Blu reached over to brush a lock of blond hair away from her face, exposing an expanse of tan cheek. She seemed to have shed the years as she slept, and now resembled the girl she must have been years ago, as all her worries and tension had melted away her mask. He liked her like this, though he knew her mask was an important part of her job. That toughness had protected her. But, he was happy she could let herself go and become soft with him... that she trusted him enough to do that. 

Blu knew that soon she would wake, and she would shower and put on her mask, ready to face the world again, back to her job, that she was so very good at. But, he knew that under that tough facade lived this sweet little girl who melted his heart and made him young again, with the promise of life laid out in front of him. She made his heart beat just a little faster to think of her, and the thought of seeing her again. 

"hmmm... hello..." Roze breathed softly against his shoulder, opening her eyes slowly. "What are you thinking about so deeply?" 

"....you..." Blu smiled. 

"nice..." she whispered, snuggling a little deeper into his shoulder, with her own smile, knowing by the sound in his voice just what he was thinking of her, and she was pleased.  
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Davis was really in a bad mood and even Joann couldn't get him out of his funk. It started with the fact that his number one assassin had been out of touch for so long. He knew Damon's last assignment had gone to hell, and he had almost been killed himself. Davis found it hard to believe anyone could get the best of that killer... even a rogue hunter. And, the sexual aspects of the 'incident' had made him totally unconfortable.

Sexual assault had never been something his assassins ever worried about before, as their own lives were the concern. And, while Davis was well-aware of how attractive Damon was, he had never thought anything like that was a possibility. Hell, all of his assassins were attractive. Though they hadn't been hired for that reason, their talant being the major attraction for him, none of them could be considered anything but attractive. 

And, then, the mysterious disappearance from the hospital and his absence from the agency for so long. Davis had not heard word one from the man... not even bothering to check in with his boss, to let him know if he was still an employee. That kept Davis on edge, not knowing if he had lost his top assassin.Then one of his agents had just turned in her resignation. That petite, brunette, Blaze, had suddenly decided to go off and get herself engaged, to some sort of royalty, of course, and then made the decision to give up her job completely. Agents weren't easy to come by and it would be a bitch trying to replace her. The job wasn't the usual... and all of his agents were super-intelligent investigators. So... the loss of any one of them was a major problem. 

And, now his latest pain in the ass was when Roze had turned down an assignment, saying she had a personal engagement to take care of and would be taking a few days off. Roze was his number two assassin... so without his two top people to call on, Davis was more than a little annoyed. If he got one more bit of bad news he was going to explode.


	11. Glow of the Fire

Damon sat up in the bed, his body aching and sore, movements slow and stiff. But, he wasn't upset, surprisingly. He had thought he would be angry, but he wasn't. Frost had been so cruel... and so.... not sweet, but something unexplainable... and he had made him feel so much more than he'd ever felt before. Damon had never thought his body could be so wrecked by someone. He had never thought someone fucking him could be so intense... the pleasure so incredible that he'd felt it through every cell in his body... an incredible euphoria. But, it was also frightening. He didn't want it to be so incredible that he could never find it with anyone else. That would prove Frost right, and he couldn't allow it. He had no intention of a repeat. That just could not happen.

"Hey, it's time to say goodbye." Damon looked over to the other side of the bed, where Frost was... or wasn't, surprised to find himself alone in the bed, the man who'd taken him to such heights of pleasure gone. "Well... I guess I'll have to go find his ass." Damon snorted. "I don't know where the hell I am and my clothes are missing... somewhere in that underground...place..." Damon wasn't sure what it was, because it most definitely wasn't a basement, though it was connected to this house. He knew he had gotten naked down there... had been fucked, covered in the blood of the creature he'd just killed, with his own blood used as lube... the thought sent a shiver of arousal through him that he didn't understand. He certainly hadn't been aroused last night when the actual event had been taking place. But, now, the thought of his own blood entering him in such an intimate way was suddenly giving him a thrill. 

Damon shook his head, trying to empty the thought from his brain. That was really sick, even for him. He stood up from the bed slowly, wincing a little. He was gonna need to wait a few more days before he went back to work. He had put his body through too much. Even it wasn't used to that much extensive use. But, he was sure he'd be good as new in a couple days... and just wouldn't be doing this ever again... as wonderful as part of it had been... He made it to the door, opening it into the hall, remembering the way to the bath... might need another shower before he left, he figured, making his way to the open door of the bath. 

Damon stepped into the shower and figured out how it worked quickly. He spent more time than necessary to get clean... but the luxury of it's massaging spray felt too good on his aching body. When he finally stepped out, he was surprised to find Frost standing there, holding out a towel for him. The man was wearing only a pair of boxer briefs and Damon couldn't help but scan the body as he reached for the towel. He found nothing wrong with it, in fact it was about as perfect as he'd remembered from the night before. No, Frost wasn't lacking in that department. His body was as lean and tight as possible, matching Damon's own like a twin, which was somewhat disconcerting. It was as if they were twins from the neck down, their bodies so eerily identical. 

Damon's gaze held on the crotch, seeing it swell beneath his gaze, and feeling his own respond to that. He quickly started to scrub the towel over his body when he heard the rumble of amused contained laughter, that was as arousing as a purr flooding over him.

"Yes, my sly little minx... you want." Frost said softly. 

"I never denied that." Damon growled. "I found you attractive the first time I saw you, and under other circumstances I would have taken you home. But, the timing was wrong. I wasn't interested on that night and you pushed the issue. That was what put me off you. And, I also never intended to submit. I never have before. I'm a dominate... always. You forced me to be otherwise last night." 

"You didn't like...?" 

"You know exactly how I felt last night... all of the night..." Damon hissed. 

"That I do." Frost chuckled. "You may not realize it yet, but you actually enjoyed every minute of it... you liked being dominated by me, you liked how I took you raw and hard... fucked the memory of that other bastard out of you and fucked myself into it's place. You needed that... that taking, because as harsh as it was, it was something you had given consent to. It gave you back your power." Frost smiled. "The rest was just a bonus." 

"You are right." Damon admitted. "You gave me exactly what I needed. I never knew it until then. But, it is over. Nobody ever gets more than one night from me... not even you." 

"We'll see, little minx..." Frost whispered, stepping forward quickly, causing Damon to frown, not seeing the needle until it sank into his hip. He jerked away from the sting, looking down at the hand that held the needle, a shocked look on his face, and a feeling of weakness entering his body, his knees giving out, and his vision starting to fade. "Don't worry, darling." Frost whispered, catching him before he fell. "You will be fine. Just a precaution..." 

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Damon came awake slowly, then jerked up out of the bed, looking around furtively, before realizing the familiarity of his own bedroom and calming down slightly. He sat up in the bed, swinging his legs over the side of it. He was fully dressed, he saw... a nice pair of linen trousers and a silk shirt. He could feel the quality of it against his skin. The clothes weren't his, so he assumed they belonged to Frost, as their bodies were pretty much the same. He stood up and ripped the clothes angrily from his body, careless as to whether they were ruined or not. He even yanked off the pair of boxer briefs. Not bothering to dress, he took the pile out to the kitchen trash can, tossing them inside. Then he headed back to his room, opening the large walk-in closet. He opened a drawer, pulling out the first pair if boxer briefs he put his hands on, pulling them up his legs and over his slim hips. It made him angry that he and Frost even had the same taste in clothes. But, he had no time for that anger now. He needed to see Blu...talk to him... clear his head...

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Blu was surprised to get the call from Damon. He was sitting in his office, putting together a new idea for a video game. It had just came to him and he wanted to get the generals down in the computer before his mind got distracted by something else. He had left Roze just an hour before, and this idea had popped into his brain on the drive home. When his private number buzzed with Damon's name popping up, it shocked him slightly. It wasn't like Damon to get in touch with him so soon after they'd seen each other. The general idea for the video game was in the computer so he saved it and pressed the button on the phone.

"Well... strange hearing from you so soon. What's wrong?" Blu asked, shutting his computer off.

"Come out. I need to see you. A private place, not here. This location isn't secure anymore. I'll tell you when I see you." Damon replied, his voice a little rough with irritation, ending the conversation. 

Blu pressed the button on his phone, frowning. This was serious. He knew where they'd meet. It was their secret meeting place, a place left over from childhood, where they still met in secret. Nobody would know about it because their childhood was between them. 

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The old Mortuary still looked the same, looked like it was falling down, though that was only appearances. It kept the street people away, afraid it was too unstable to bother spending any time to find out. Their lives may have been miserable, but none of them wanted to end it any time soon in such a horrible way as suffocating under a building that had caved in on them. But, Blu knew that it was just an appearance. He owned the building and had kept it up over the years...while making sure it appeared to be ready to fall down any minute. If any of those people had stopped to think they would have realized this fact... but street life was rough and changing all the time, with any long term residents not mentally sound enough to bother to think on the subject of the old Mortuary. Besides, it's history of housing the dead was off putting as well...and it was said to be haunted. Whatever the reason, there were no intruders to the space. 

This place brought back so many memories for Blu, memories of his youth. But, he didn't look back with longing... just a little nostalgia, but a small amount. He kept this place as a reminder of his roots and how far he had come... and also as a secret place for him and Damon to meet... a place only they knew, and could forever find their way to. When Damon had come back from his stint in the armed forces, this had been the first thing he asked about, wanting to see the place of their childhood, because that was what it was. Both had become men over the course of the last two years, their faces hard with life. Nobody treated them like children anymore. It only took one look into their eyes to be able to tell they were much older than they looked, had lived many lifetimes in those years. They were treated with the respect they demanded. And, if anyone ever bothered to question, a few words had them understanding.

"Don't stand out here wallowing in nostalgia like an old alleycat. Let's go inside." Damon's voice came out of the darkness, as he walked toward the old building, stepping into the light close to Blu. He would have scared anyone else, moving so silently. But, Blu was used to it. In fact, he'd been aware of Damon before he even spoke, so in tune with his 'brother.' 

"Not wallowing... just waxing..." Blu smiled, turning to the open door way and stepping inside the building. Damon followed behind him as they meandered their way toward the center of the building. 

Blu's fingers found the square on the wall, touching it to set the room into a soft glow, from hidden lights. These lights could not be seen from the outside. He made his way over to the confortable couch, sitting down, thinking he would need to. Damon joined him, turning sideways to face his friend. Blu turned so they faced each other. Damon looked him in the eyes and cleared his throat. It wasn't nervousness or a delaying tactic. He just wanted to get his thoughts in the right order before he spoke. 

"I was kidnapped last night..." Damon began. "Out of nowhere... and unexpected. I had headed out for a night... and I ended up getting one to remember." 

"Were you hurt?" Blu questioned, though it didn't appear apparent immediately. 

"A little... but nothing I didn't consent to." Damon replied. 

"So... it was sexual." Blu said. 

"Yes... but that came later." Damon continued. "My kidnapper took me someplace underground. He had a surprise for me... a present." Damon paused for a moment. "It was that guy that raped and tortured me. He wasn't dead, as I'd been led to believe, though I didn't recognize him, at first. My captor had already been playing with him a bit. He was in rough shape. But he had saved him for me to finish. As I said, a present." 

"And, you did finish him...didn't you?" Blu said. 

"Yeah... I did. And I was messy. And, I don't regret it. Maybe I should, but I don't. " 

"You shouldn't." Blu said softly. 

"I literally bathed in his blood, Blu!" Damon exclaimed. 

"Gross... but to each their own..." Blu shook his head. 

"Well, the present wasn't free... and I had to pay for it... giving myself up for the night... to be used as he saw fit... and I agreed to it." Damon's voice had grown soft. Blu was silent this time, just listening to his friend. 

"He hurt me. It was pretty brutal... but subconsciously I liked it, and I realized it later. He gave me exactly what I needed to regain myself. I needed to be taken by force, but through consent. You were right about what I needed, that I needed to submit. But, you weren't capable of being as cruel as I needed... as he was. And, I regained myself that way." 

"He took away the brokeness... healed me emotionally, even as he broke me physically. And, I needed that. Then, he really fucked me good and proper," Damon laughed. "It was amazing. I never thought in my life that I'd enjoy having a dick up my ass would feel that good, especially after my earlier experience with him. But, he took me to heights of pleasure I've never felt before, and I don't think I ever will again. I don't want to have anyone else dominate me like that... nor him either. But, I know I want to feel that pleasure again. And, I'm afraid of that." Damon grew serious. 

"What are you afraid of, Dae?" Blu asked. 

"This man is dangerous, Blu, maybe even more so than I am. And, he told me I was his, that he owned me and that I'd come back, because I'd need what only he could give. My problem is that I think he might be right, even though I denied it to him. I may go back to him for more, because nobody can give me what he can... I don't want anyone else to even try." 

"But, the thing is... I have no idea where to find him... to even go back. He drugged me to take me there and drugged me again to take me home. I have no idea where he took me, though I am sure it was his place. I think he did it on purpose, to prove to me... I think he'll wait until I get desperate for him, drive me mad with a need for him, before he just appears again. And, I know deep down that I will do just that. My body gets aroused just thinking about it. I don't know what to do, Blu?" Damon's voice sounded desperate. 

"You have a quandry, friend." Blu answered. "I'm afraid it's one I don't have the answer for. You will have to make peace with yourself over this one... let yourself have this. It looks like he's the one for you, regardless of how dangerous he is. You are dangerous too, and if we weren't so close I'd be afraid of you too. You are hard and cold to the outside world. You just met your match. Somehow, I knew it would come down this way. You'd have to meet yourself... and now you have." 

"He's not me!" Damon argued. "He's crazy!" 

"Don't take this wrong, but so are you, my friend. You have to be to do what you do. You lost so much of yourself years ago. I came out much more solid than you did. I love you, Dae, but you are not mentally stable. Just acknowledge that. And, you know just exactly how dangerous you are. So. I don't think this man can outdo you in any department." 

"I can't believe you would say that..." Damon rasped, standing up from the couch, running a hand roughly through his curls, once, twice, then once more, before sitting back down in the spot he'd vacated. 

"Oh, hell... you're right. One thing I've always counted on from you is honesty. You never lie to me. Ok... I guess I'll have to wait it out, then. Before I get the chance to admit the truth to that arrogant bastard. That really pissed me off. I hate that I'll have to eat my words to him. And, I also don't want to have to suffer through this until he makes another appearance... because I know he wants to torture me a while... hell, it's just what I'd do if it were me. And, I really don't want to play with anyone else. Guess, I'm screwed, huh." 

"Guess you are." Blu chuckled. "Now, that your crisis is over you gonna go home and get some rest. I think you need it. I think you had a long night." 

"You are right. I really do need some more rest. I'll go back to work in a couple of days. That will help me occupy some of my time, at least. And, I'll try not to bother you with this foolishness again." Damon said, rising from the sofa as Blu did. 

The two men had a long hug, before parting. "You can bother me anytime, Dae, foolish or not, I'm here for you. You know that. Catch you on the wire." Then the lights went out and Blu was gone. Damon waited a few minutes, then found his own way out. 

At first, before he'd thought about it and talked to Blu... Damon had almost panicked, thinking that Frost knew where he was staying. He never allowed anyone to have such knowledge of him. And, the man was well-acquainted with security systems, having no problems with Damon's highly-sophisticated one. That had made Damon nervous. But, after he'd thought about it for a while, he'd come to realize his feelings and knew that he wanted that creature. It made him angry with himself. He didn't want to need something like that. Then, he decided to speak to Blu. That always helped. And, it had helped. Damon had admitted the truth... that he wanted Frost, and that he was going to be with him. He just had to wait for the man to contact him again.

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"So, what's going on with your friend?" Roze questioned Blu. They were lounging on her sofa... drinking some nice rose wine, which Blu had brought with him, after the dinner invite from Roze. They had enjoyed two nice grilled steaks, with roasted veggies and potatoes, before retiring to the living room to try out the rose wine. She lay in his arms, sipping at the excellent vintage, waiting for his answer. 

"He'll be back to work tomorrow. Vacation over. And, since you also have to work, perhaps you'll get the opportunity to do something together." Blu replied. "He's had some personal shit going on, but I think he has a handle on it now." 

"Damon has a personal life?" Roze quirked an eyebrow. 

"Everyone does, beautiful." Blu replied. "Even the Death Angel... and, no, I am not at liberty to talk about it... not even with you." 

"You know I'd never ask you to do that, Blu." Roze said softly. "Maybe someday he will actually let someone else into this exclusive club you two have."

"Perhaps... but don't be disappointed if he does not. Damon doesn't trust anyone... hasn't his whole life. That is something hard to change. But, if it's any consolation, you would be the one to break him. He already trusts you to have his back at work. That in itself is big. And, I will put in a good word for you." Blu smiled. 

Roze turned, tilting her head back, inviting. And, Blu was never one to turn down such an invitation. His lips covered hers for a long deep kiss. And, they soon moved into the privacy of the bedroom.

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Summer stood at the door of the church, shaking hands and giving small words to her parishioners. It had been surprising how quickly they had come around to her taking over the church. She would take a leave when her pregnancy progressed close to term, but would soon be back to resume her job after. Yes, life would go on, even though she had lost so much. The world would not stop because of it, and she had always been strong. She had stood at her husband's side, letting him take the lead because she wanted to, not because she was weak. And, in the short time she had been leading this congregation had proven her strength. Her husband had been a popular leader, charismatic... but she had no problem stepping into his place. And, she had every intention of taking her church into the future as a strong base of the faith. 

The last of the congregation was long gone when she stepped from the church, closing it's doors. She had made some notes before she left, thought on her next sermon. She'd write it up at home tonight, before she got back in touch with the private investigator she'd hired to find the person who'd taken her husband from her life. This was something else she would not let go. She had already decided it was a random killing, but it didn't mean whoever did it was going to get away with it. Justice would be served. She slid behind the wheel of her Mercedes, strapping the seat belt over her swollen stomach, stopping to rub over it gently with one hand, sending up a prayer for her little ones, before she set the car in gear and headed home. 

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	12. Hell  and Eternity

Damon made his way across town, to the old mortuary. It wasn't easy. He had to fight his way through the monsters. He was moving on autopilot, had been since the world went to hell and corpses had begun to walk the earth. It was hard to believe that only two weeks ago he had been working as an assassin for a secret government agency, and had been considering settling down with a psychopathic killer, who had just finished fucking him one hundred ways from Sunday. It had been the very next day that corpses started to reanimate, coming out of the morgues, shambling out as if they hadn't been lying on tables and in freezers like slabs of meat. They had attacked the morticians and staff first, creating more of their own kind. Then, as a whole they'd made their way out into the streets, attacking everything they came across.

It had started during the night, while Damon had been getting fucked beyond imagination. But, those reanimated corpses hadn't made it out into the streets until the next day. Damon wasn't even aware of it then. He was inside, safe and sound, without a news source. In fact he'd actually been asleep, when he'd been rudely awoken by his demon lover. When he first opened his eyes, he'd been shocked, then pissed in the matter of moments, as Frost had shaken him roughly to wake him. He couldn't believe the bastard had the nerve to break into his apartment. He hadn't even known the prick knew where he lived. He had moved from the hotel he'd been staying in, and hadn't even settled in to his private home yet. Nobody knew where he was except Blu, who would have died before he revealed Damon's whereabouts. So, the demon had to have been watching him. That was just creepy as shit, even for someone Damon had been considering making a part of his future; creepier than the fact he was a psychopath. 

And, as said psychopath was staring into his eyes, his first instinct was to break his neck. He guessed his eyes communicated that thought, as Frost leaped away as he shot to his feet. Frost was staring at him, laughing, but it was a cold mirth, no true amusement in that laugh.

"Newsflash, killer. No time to kill me now. You'll be lucky if any of us make it out of this shitstorm... and you are going to need all the help you can get, just as I will. Why the fuck don't you own a television or radio. It's all over the goddamn news..." Frost cursed, in frustration. 

"What in the hell are you talking about? Has World War Three started or aliens taken over the planet? Those are the only reasons I can think of for you being here without me killing your ass!" Damon snapped. 

"Either of those things would be a blessing, compared to what is taking place," Frost snorted. 

"Well... don't fucking keep me in suspense, then. Tell me what the hell it is?" Damon flared. 

Before Frost could offer any explanation, the wail of sirens blaring throughout the city came through his windows. 

"Guess the government decided to sound the alert after all," Frost snipped sarcastically. "Last news report I got, they had thought they would get everything under control quickly and this was just a strange phenomenon... not a reason to panic. Guess they were wrong." 

Damon looked back at Frost, back from the window, where the sounds of sirens was still wailing. He took the time to take in the appearance of his mad stalker... noticing for the first time that he didn't appear to be perfectly turned out. He was wearing a simple pair of black jeans and a black t-shirt. And, a sturdy pair of work boots clad his feet. It was shocking attire for the urbane creature, used to his expensive confort. Damon gave him an odd look. He also appeared a little ruffled, his hair a little messed, and a bit of sweat staining his black tee. 

"... I came to save your ass, before the fucking city goes into quarantine. The goddamn military will be rounding up all the civilians, to lock away somewhere. You can bet your ass on that. And, since neither of our organizations are santioned by the actual military, we will be considered a part of that group," Frost assessed correctly. 

"...and before you grab your fucking phone... think..." Frost continued. "Why the hell do you think I didn't just ring you up to warn you of this shitstorm?" Frost asked. "...yeah... exactly. The government shut down all the satellite communication. The fucking phones don't work. Even when they were saying everything was ok, no need to panic, the fuckers were secretly going about shutting down all the communication systems. The television and radios are probably shut out by now. They don't want to announce themselves when they come to round up the masses. My guess is they are using walkies to communicate with each other, on secret channels." Frost explained. 

"Now, do you want to get the hell out of here before the calvary shows up, or are you going in for the roundup?" Frost shot him a look. 

"What the hell do you think?" 

"Well, you better put a rush on it then..." Foster frowned. "You own any everyman clothes... preferably in black...?" 

"Seriously...?" Damon rushed for his closet, grabbing a pair of his black jeans and a tee, a perfect match for what Frost was wearing, not taking the time to be irritated that they were going to be twinning. No time for that now. He had stripped and changed in a couple minutes. He turned around to face Frost, running a quick hand through his hair, letting it fall messilyy into place. It looked amazing, as usual. But Damon wasn't concerned with his looks. He knew the urgency needed to vacate this place before the government tanks rolled in. He looked at his bare feet, wondering what to wear. 

"Just grab some sneakers. We'll grab a pair of work boots after we get out of here. There are plenty of stores, snatch and grab. Nobody will even notice in all this chaos. Just make sure you have some weapons. I got a pack by the door. Sure you have something similar in your closet, just in case." Frost sniffed. "Hurry the fuck up. We don't have time to waste." 

"Not wasting time asshole," Damon snapped, pulling on the second shoe, reaching up on the shelf for his emergency bag, a little annoyed now that Frost had known about it. Frost was right, of course. He had his automatic, loaded, and several extra clips in the bag, along with a good bowie knife and a switchblade. Also, a bottle of alcohol and a roll of dressing, some antibiotic cream and tape. There was a six-pack of water, as well and a bandana, and a bottle of extra strength Tylenol.

"Oh, by the way... the state of emergency that's freaking the government is walking corpses..." Frost threw back over his shoulder as he headed for the door. 

"...What-the-fuck!?" Damon grabbed Frost by the shoulder and spun him around. "...Walking dead people...?" 

"Yeah..." Frost sighed. "Ran into a few on my way here. They are everywhere, by the way. I had to take out a couple on the way. Couldn't avoid them. Nasty mother-fuckers. Have to kill the brains by the way. Shooting or stabbing them anywhere else doesn't do shit. They just keep going. A head shot puts them down permanent though. Remember that. Don't believe me, wait til we hit the street..." Frost turned away , headed back for the door, grabbing his pack on the way out the door, slinging it over one shoulder. 

Damon followed suit, stepping up behind Frost as he slowly opened the door, searching quickly before he stepped out onto the stoop. Glancing to the left and right, before heading out. As Damon followed him, he noticed how quiet the streets were, besides the wail of sirens in the distance. Where were all the people? 

Frost darted from building to building, with Damon sticking close. When Frost suddenly whirled around, grabbing him and dragging him back into an alley, and up a stair, he almost went off. Then, he saw something shambling toward the metal stairs they were clambering up, and his mouth snapped shut. It looked like a creature from hell and he wasn't in the mood to join it there. He rushed up the hunk of metal behind Frost... not needing any encouragement to make haste, as he noticed several more of those things collecting to follow the first. 

They climbed up to the roof of the building, running across it, heading for the edge, hurling their packs across to the next building, then launching themselves across, picking up the bags and continuing in this manner, until they were several buildings over, before they headed down another fire escape, stopping at a window, checking to see it was empty, before climbing in through a window. It was an abandoned building, fortunately. They headed out of the room, working their way down the stairs to the empty cavern below. None of the creature's were in evidence, so they headed for the exiting door. 

"We have to find a place to get you some work boots, first. Then we have to consider where we are going to go..." Frost said. 

"Yeah. Boots... first. And, I have a place to go. But, we need more than the boots, and I have to make another stop before we go anywhere else..." 

"Where the hell do you think you need to go, before we go to ground" Frost hissed. 

"It's personal..." Damon hissed back. 

"Hope it's not a waste of time. If it's a friend, he better have already beat a trail out of there, unless he wants to be part of the roundup." Frost quipped. "Is he as unsocial as you and thinks television and radios are an unnecessary evil? Because, if he's a part of society, I'm sure he already knows about this shit. And, as to why he didn't call you..." Frost started, only to have Damon interrupt him. 

"...ok... yeah, I know, no phone service..." Damon let out a sigh of frustration. "Guess you are right. He is too fucking smart to be caught with his pants down. And, he has news services, unlike myself. Damn. You are right. He probably headed for my place. He won't find me there, and he'll figure it out. He knows where to go. I'll meet up with him there." Damon reasoned to himself. "Oh, by the way, you are going someplace secret. I'm trusting you, here. Nobody knows about this place but me and my friend. We will be safe there for a while, but it won't be permanent. We are going to have to stay on the move, later... at least until the government gets these monsters under control. My friend will meet us there. We'll regroup and come up with our plan then...." Damon paused for a moment of thought, then chuckled softly, causing Frost to give him a strange look. "Just thinking of you and Blu meeting each other. This should be interesting..." 

"Ok...then..." Frost sighed, turning back to the exit. 

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Unlike Damon, Blu was not surprised by the onslaught of the walking dead. He had been with Roze, the television turned on a news channel, Roze's automatic channel. She never really watched anything else. It was with amazement that she had caught the news flashing across the screen, as she exited the shower, yelling out to Blu, who was lazing in the bed still. He was out of the bed and into the living room in a shot, at her shout of alarm, curious when she only pointed at the television screen. They had watched the screen in fascination, before it was interrupted, a special news report, suddenly being interrupted by a government official. That was shocking in itself, adding to the shock of the news report, telling of the reanimation of corpses who were coming from the morgues, and had attacked the living there, like a fucking horror movie. And, the victims of these attacks had turned into walking corpses themselves. Then , they were making their way out into the city. Survivors were reporting these instances across the state. And, reports were coming in of similar instances across the country. Nobody had any photos of this yet, but they were sure of some footage soon, as news crews were being sent out at the present moment... 

That was where the government official had interrupted the news coverage... shutting them out, military officers coming in to remove the anchors from the room, and the government official taking their place. He then assured the 'American people' that there was no reason to panic. 'The government had it under control' and 'the military' was 'taking care of the situation' as he spoke. 'The situation' would be under control soon. Citizens were cautioned to simply remain in their homes until this 'problem' had been taken care of. Everyone was told to stay where they were, to lock themselves inside and hold fast. The military would have the streets safe again in a matter of hours, the official assured his audience. Then, the screen had gone black. 

Blu was sure most of America had bought the load of bullshit the government was pushing out to them, but he wasn't one of those individuals. As he and Roze looked at one another, in understanding, he knew she didn't believe the shit either. They both ran for their phones at the same time. Roze was going to call work, to find out what they were doing about it. Blu had only one person he wanted to call... Damon. He had to check on his brother. Neither of them got the chance to make those calls. There was no phone service.

"Those bastards!" Blu hissed, turning to Roze. "They've cut all of our communication... isolated us." 

"God!" Roze cried. "How can we contact anyone?" 

"Fucking government!" Blu exploded. "And, you can forget about your own group. It's not exactly a secret... except from the American public. And, the real government has shut it down, already. You can be sure of that. But, I need to get to Damon. He doesn't have any news service. He'll be caught unaware and won't know what's coming. Hurry up. Get dressed. Keep it casual and I'll throw an emergency kit together. I don't have time to run home and change, so I'll just have to wear what I got. It's a little colorful and not gonna be easy to camoflage. Stick out like a fucking sore thumb. You got a bandana I can use, to at least cover this fucking hair?" Blu was talking as fast as he was thinking... but Roze was keeping up with him, tossing a bandana to him as she was jerking on a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt. She didn't even bother with a bra, though she had jerked on a pair of bikinis. She ran a brush through her hair quickly, taking out the tangles, then slapped a bandana over her own head. She didn't worry about make-up, definitely going for inconspicuous. 

As she slipped a pair of sneakers on, she saw Blu stuffing things into a backpack, noticing his survival skills. She could tell he knew what he was doing. He jerked open a kitchen drawer, pulling out a pair of large knives, tossing them in the bag, along with a meat tenderizer and a can opener, a manual one. Then he rushed to a refrigerator, throwing in a six-pack of bottled water and another of juice. He threw in several packages of almonds and the can of cheese. He opened her cabinet and pulled out a box of crackers and two cans of tuna, tossing them in as well as a box if granola cereal. Then he headed for the bathroom. He was back in less than five minutes, having added a bottle of alcohol and cotton balls to the mix along with a pair of washcloths and her flashlight, with a supply of batteries and a lighter.He'd also tossed in her bottle of Tylenol. 

"Come on, doll. Let's hit the road." Blu said, "Stay indoors, my ass!" he muttered to himself. He zipped up the heavy backpack, slinging it over one shoulder, grabbing Roze's hand as they headed for the door, knowing they would never see this place again... but knowing they wouldn't mourn it's loss. It had only been a house. Roze would be at home wherever they landed, as long as Blu was there. He was her home, she realized. She just now realized this and how much this man had come to mean in her life. It was a bit of an awakening for her... and she was happy about it. 

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And, that had been two weeks ago. After they had arrived at Damon's place, finding him missing, and Blu decided he had escaped somehow, and knew where he would head. They had been lucky, up to that point, managing to avoid any of the dead... and Blu had borrowed a pair of sneakers from Damon's closet while he was there, exchanging them for the tie-die ones he was wearing. As they headed for this secret place where Blu was sure Damon would go, they had to take to the roofs of buildings a few times, to avoid the dead ones. Then, they had arrived at the mortuary...which Roze saw as any other creature would, a falling down death trap. It had taken Blu a little convincing to get her to enter the precarious looking stone structure. And, she had been shocked when they got inside, the flashlight coming out so Blu could prove that the building was really quite safe, only looking the way it did as it's own form of camoflage. 

And, when they reached the inner sanctum, all was revealed. Damon was there, with his 'friend', and the campsite was already in place. Introductions were made, vague ones... names and the smallest amounts of information. Blu introduced Roze as his girlfriend. Damon nodded as if he barely knew her. She acted the same. Damon introduced Frost as a 'friend', emphasis on the word, letting Blu and Roze know it was official. Blu knew about the psycho, but didn't mention it to Roze... no need. He felt she sensed it anyway, but was polite. 

Frost never mentioned that he knew exactly who Blu and Roze were. He just hadn't been aware of how close they were. He didn't really care. It was just helpful that Blu had someone to concentrate on besides Dsmon, because that would have made Frost snap in a fucking hurry. As it was, they were going to be too close for comfort. But, they settled into a coexistence of sorts, sneaking out at different times to get supplies, avoiding the government and the dead, whose numbers continued to grow. They would venture out in pairs. Damon and Frost would go out one day, while Blu and Roze would make the next supply run. They always found places to stop, where they would have personal encounters. The pair staying at the mortuary took the time for their own personal encounters. Both pairs, burned off their frustrations at these times... and came back together in a more tolerable mood. But, after two weeks of living in the mortuary, it was decided that they would hit the road out of town and try to find out if there were any other survivors out there who had escaped the government roundups. 

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

But, fate had other plans. As they lay sleeping that night, all piled into the big queen-size bed from Damon and Blu's childhood, another form of death had found them. Lucien had sensed the group in the mortuary, and had found them fascinating. He had crept into their safehaven, taking them one by one, then leaving them too turn. He had a little coven now in this group. And, once they had woken after the change, he had filled their minds in on what they were now, before he had left them. The group had slept through the day, after Lucien had left them, waking on the next night, leaving their safe haven to seek out a meal, in the form of humans, military officers that were easily found on the streets. Once they had fed they decided to continue their journey, as they were truly free now. 

And, they wandered across the earth, a tight little band of vampires who killed the rotting corpses they crossed, feeding only when necessary, and not killing the humans, who were survivors, aso they had been... though it had been an exercise in restraint for Frost... and he had taken his frustration out on Damon, brutally fucking him to release his pent up energy. But, as a vampire, Damon was well able to take whatever Frost dealt out. And, as vampires, the entire group had lost all inhibitions. Clothes were shed easily in front of each other and rutting was performed as easily as breathing. As vampires, the group had gained an excess of sexual energy and felt the need for it's release on a daily basis, and it was wild and rough, animalistic, as they were actual beasts now. Often Damon and Roze would lie beside each other as their mate's pounded into them, not even aware of each other, as they were growling and exchanging bites with their mates. Blood seemed to be everywhere, as they slipped around in it, teeth buried in each others veins, as groins slammed together furiously. All achieved total bliss and were a little sore afterward. But, they healed quickly and would be ready for the rut on the following night. They would find abandoned buildings, to go to ground in when the approach of daylight was upon them, and also found cemeteries especially attractive. They had no fear of any kind of dead, and would burrow into the ground, coming to rest beside the bones of the long dead in cemeteries where the wooden coffins had rotted and the bones were now resting in the earth. They would merely push aside rotted wood and bones, and cuddle up in each others arms to wait out the day, emerging from the earth on the following night, shaking the earth from their hair and clothes and heading out for another night of travel. It was how they wandered the earth, waiting the return of their master... and enjoying the new lives they had.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the story of these original characters before they interacted with the world of the living dead. This is their prequel story before they entered into the story 'Heartbeats',


End file.
